Broken Home
by Lady Rhapsody
Summary: The sequel to 'Little Black Dress'. Bulma and Vejita face the challenges of young parenthood. But the person having the most trouble is not who you might think. Contains language, hints of abuse, and dark content! Readers beware!
1. Chapter One

...........................................................................................~* BROKEN HOME  
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*  
  
  
  
  
..................... Three Years Later, at Capsule Corps.  
  
  
  
  
Vejita leaned further back on his elbows and focused his attention on Bulma and Trunks, who were flying a kite together nearby. It was a beautiful summer afternoon without a cloud in the sky nor in the heart. They were in the spacious backyard of Capsule Corps., and dandelions bloomed everywhere around them. Mrs. Briefs had insisted that the yard workers trim the lawn around them, which had turned out to be an activity that Vejita enjoyed watching. One wouldn't believe how flustered the workers could get. Besides Vejita, of course, but only because he watched it every day like an avid football fan.  
  
As a matter of fact, the only unpleasant thing about this day was the person sitting next to him. Kakkarott, or Goku, if you were missing a few brain cells--the idiot who had caused him so much stress in the last four or five years. He had long since stopped inviting the man over to do anything but spar, and even that he only did occasionally. Ever since the birth of Trunks it had become routine for Goku to just...show up. While Vejita might have minded, he tolerated it only because of the pleasant effect it tended to have on Bulma. The girl pretty nearly glowed when she had her close friends around her, and even Vejita was not willing to deny her that. Her new life was not an easy one, and she needed every break she could get.  
  
"Weeeeee!" Trunks squealed happily, pointing a chubby little finger at the kite. "Mommy, weeeee!"  
  
Bulma laughed and bent down to speak to her son, her beautiful smile lighting up her face. "Whatever you say, little man." With another little giggle, she set the kite string aside and proceeded to tickle Trunks mercilessly, causing him to erupt in peals of laughter. They made a lovely picture.  
  
Goku sighed from beside Vejita, breaking him out of his reverie. "Its nice to see Bulma relaxing like this. I was really worried that things weren't going to work out. I still get worried sometimes, in fact."  
  
"Thanks for ruining a peaceful, silent moment, you dumbass," Vejita muttered. "Are you blind? She's always happy when she's with the brat." It was only partly true, but Vejita didn't care.  
  
"Well..." Goku thought for a moment. "I'm not too sure about that one, Vejita."  
  
"Hey Vejita!" Bulma called over, shading her crystal-clear blue eyes from the scorching summer sun. "Come and watch your son! I have to sit down for a minute. This little guy is wearing Mommy down."  
  
Vejita sighed in reluctance and slowly got up. "Do I have to? Kami woman, its only been an hour!"  
  
Bulma put her hands on her hips and frowned at him as he approached leisurely. "Well, unlike you, I actually do OTHER things with my time besides fanatically exercise!" Though her tone was serious, her eyes were teasing and she brushed up against him 'innocently' as she passed.   
  
"Bite me..." Vejita growled under his breath. He then took a deep breath and turned to his son, who was watching him with the usual expression of awe that he displayed whenever in the presence of his enigmatic father, which wasn't as often as was ideal. "What are you staring at, boy? Get that flying contraption of yours prepared!"  
  
"Yes, Daddy--, I mean Father," Trunks said obediently. His chubby little hands worked furiously to get the string untangled and ready for flight, but his determination eventually won out. "I did it!"  
  
Rather than help his son keep the kite in the air, Vejita stood back and merely watched. He was not what you would call a 'hands-on' father unless he had to be. Trunks was content with this and went about testing the kite's flying capabilities by himself. Vejita busied himself thinking about when he was going to teach the little demi-Saiyan to fly on his own.   
  
Meanwhile, Bulma took Vejita's seat next to Goku, who was more than happy to converse with his childhood friend. "You seem to be in a good mood today, B-chan."  
  
Bulma grinned and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I guess I am. I don't get to spend time with Trunks like this as often as I would like." Her eyes got darker for a moment, and as she lowered her head her nose ring flashed in the sun. It served as a painful reminder of when times had not been so good. "Ever since Dad died, I've been spending almost every day in the office cleaning things up after him. Apparently he wasn't planning on passing away so soon. I don't have much time to dote on Trunks very much, and neither does Vejita. He's been very busy training for this hidden threat that you guys heard about."  
  
Goku nodded knowingly. Bulma's father had died of a heart attack a few months after Trunks was born, leaving the company in Bulma's amateur hands. Things were going quite well, though--Bulma had inherited her father's skill in business, and his sympathetic coworkers had only been too happy to show her the ropes. It hadn't been long before Bulma had become a full-fledged corporate master, and there was hardly a soul in the world who didn't know it. Her takeover of Capsule Corporations had unfortunately been a very publicized one. Instead of the trendy little halter tops and sundresses her wardrobe used to be made up of, she now opened her closet to choose from one of many skirt suits and strappy, elegant shoes. It had been a hard adjustment at first, but she was getting used to it. And besides, she still had a sexy little number or two hidden in the back.  
  
"So, how are...things?" Goku asked lightly, plucking a dandelion and ripping off its petals absently.   
  
"As good as always, I suppose," Bulma answered. "Kami, I can't believe that I'm almost twenty-five now. I feel so old!"  
  
Goku crossed his arms. "Hey! Are you calling me old? I'm twenty-seven, remember?"  
  
Bulma's lips curled into a smirk that Vejita would have been proud of. "I remember. You're an old man now, Goku."  
  
"I know, I know," Goku said. He uncrossed his arms and studied Vejita and Trunks for a moment. "You know, Vejita is going to turn out fine after all."  
  
"'Turn out fine'?" Bulma repeated quizzically. "What does THAT mean?"  
  
"It means that I was worried about how Vejita was going to handle this whole human life that he's been leading."  
  
Bulma's smile disappeared. She too watched the Saiyan Prince with wistful eyes. "I wouldn't call it a human lifestyle. He'll never accept the fact that his race, even his planet, is gone forever. I can hardly blame him--I would be a wreck if I were in his position. He would have been such a good ruler."  
  
"What makes you say that?" Goku asked. "Don't tell him that I said this, but I would definitely not want to be under his rule. I have the impression that he would be a harsh king. And I wouldn't call it a human lifestyle, either. You're still not his wife."  
  
An expression of amusement crossed Bulma's face briefly, then it was gone. "No, I'm not. I don't think that I ever will be. Vejita just can't understand why that title is so important to humans. He thinks that being able to call me his 'woman' is enough. I can't say that I'm so eager to tie the knot, either. Besides, why should I let other people's opinions dictate my life?"  
  
Goku shrugged. He would never understand why Vejita would not agree to marry Bulma, but it was something that he had come to accept. "But you still haven't answered my question. Why do you think that he would be a good ruler?"  
  
Bulma sighed. "I'm not sure. He probably would be a pretty harsh king, but from what I've seen of you Saiyans, I think that that would be an appropriate way to handle things." She smiled dryly, thinking of Radditz and Nappa, and then went on. "I think that as long as he had somebody level-headed by his side to help keep his anger in check, then he could be a very powerful monarch. Even when he's just talking or eating or breathing, you can tell that he comes from royalty. Its just a feeling that comes off of him. I can't explain it."  
  
Just then the back door of the mansion slid open and Mrs. Briefs stuck her head out. "Lunch is ready, Bulma dear! Goku, you're welcome to join us." Her voice, which was not as strong as it used to be, was cheerful.  
  
Trunks dropped his kite and rushed into the house, always in need of a good meal. Even at his young age, he could eat more than his full-grown mother could. Vejita caught up with Bulma and Goku and frowned with displeasure.   
  
"Did you two have a nice little chat?"  
  
Bulma rolled her eyes. No matter what she did or how many times she reassured him, Vejita could not get over the fact that she and Goku were such good friends. Bulma wrote it off as jealousy and tended to ignore it, which usually worked nicely. Goku guessed that his hostility dated back to the instance when he had refused to tell Vejita about Bulma's pregnancy until Bulma gave him the go-ahead, which she never had. Now Vejita seemed to be thinking that they were sharing secrets again, which was almost always incorrect.  
  
"Yes, we did," she said firmly. "Did you have a nice time with your son?"  
  
"I should ask you the same question," Vejita shot back. He often brought up the point that Bulma spent as little time with her son as he himself did. It had become a common arguement between them. "Shouldn't you be holed up in your little office right now?"  
  
Bulma lifted her chin and met his eyes. "Today's a Saturday. I only have to work for a few hours before dinner tonight."  
  
Goku swallowed uncomfortably. "Uh, are you guys sure that its okay for me to stay over for a little longer?"  
  
"Yes!" "No!" Bulma and Vejita exclaimed simultaneously.   
  
"Umm...okay..."  
  
Bulma slid open the back door and entered the kitchen, where her mother and Trunks were waiting. "Of course its okay for you to stay and eat with us, Goku. I'm sure that Mother cooked enough for us all."  
  
"Unless Trunks is on a surprise diet, I don't think thats entirely accurate," Vejita disagreed, crossing his arms. "Besides, I'm sick of you, Kakkarott. Go get Godzilla on your own food supply."  
  
"Kami, Vejita, why do you always have to--" Bulma exclaimed. Goku held up a hand to silence her.  
  
"No, Bulma, he's right," he said good-naturedly. "I've probably been putting a pretty big addition onto your grocery bill lately. I should be getting home to Chichi and Gohan anyway."  
  
"Believe me, Goku," Bulma said as he headed out the door. "Not even YOU could make my grocery bill any worse than it already is."  
  
  
  
  
Some hours later, Bulma could be found up in she and Vejita's room, getting herself ready for the three hours of hard work ahead of her. She couldn't even get an entire Saturday off of work these days, with the stock market in the shape it was now. Trunks had decided to train with his father, so the exasperated girl could finally get a quiet moment to herself. Usually she had both Vejita, Trunks, and sometimes even her elderly mother breathing down her neck while she got ready for work.  
  
"Thank you Kami," she whispered as she wiggled into her clothing.  
  
She wore a black, knee-length skirt suit with matching stiletto shoes and the appropriate jewelry. She had decided to blow her hair out straight and leave it down for laziness' sake and apt for smoky eyes and softly-colored lips. Before she headed out to her office, she spritzed herself with a flowery perfume and gave herself the once-over in her mirror. She was having a good day, so it was likely that the newest intern--a wiry, plain-looking college student--would hit on her again, but she could handle it. She did it every day.  
  
She had made it out of her room and almost all the way to the business offices across the building when Trunks came sprinting over to her, sweat soaking his entire body. Bulma jumped out of his way to avoid getting wet and wrinkled her nose at the messy state her son was in.  
  
"Mommy!" Trunks wailed, trying to get a hold on one of her legs. "Daddy's bein' mean to me!"  
  
Bulma was about to reply when Vejita stormed into the room, grabbed the back of his son's shirt, and delivered a swift smack across the child's face.  
  
"Told ya!" Trunks shouted, struggling to get free. "I told ya!"  
  
Bulma ran a frustrated hand through her hair and fought to maintain her composure. "What the hell is going on, Vejita?"  
  
The angry Saiyan resisted Trunks' protests easily, the frown on his face deepening. "The little brat was messing with the controls on the gravity machine again! One of these days I'm going to let the damned thing crush him!"  
  
"Again?!" Bulma demanded. "Dammit Trunks, you've got to stop DOING that!"  
  
Vejita lifted the kid off of his feet and raised him up to eye level. "You hear that? I'm NOT being mean! If I had decided to be mean, then your ass would be smeared across the floor of the gravity room!"  
  
Bulma watched them struggle their way out of the room and back towards the gravity room, where she was sure that they would be able to duke it out eventually. After a frustrated sigh and a glance at her watch (she was ten minutes late), she turned on her heel and hurried on her way, determined to get her work done quickly.  
  
  
  
  
She came back home from work that night an exhausted woman. She carried her painful shoes in one hand and sucked on a cigarette with the other. She had tied up her hair into a tight chignon during the day and her expression was strained. Vejita, who had been watching TV, waiting for her to come home, swallowed his complaints and studied her, not bothering to hide his amusement.  
  
"What happened to you?"  
  
Bulma shook her head and put out her cigarette. "The usual. I just can't understand how Daddy could handle all of this shit on his own. Kami knows that I can't. I found out that I have to hire a few more people to file papers today. And guess who had to do all of the extra work?"  
  
Vejita smirked and settled back into his seat on the couch, content that his 'mate' was alright. "Perhaps you should fire somebody. I'm willing to bet that that would make you feel better."  
  
"Doubtful." Bulma gave him a disgusted look and threw her shoes at a wall. "Where's Trunks?"  
  
"With your mother." Vejita scowled. At the incredulous look Bulma shot him, he held up his hands defensively. "Hey, you told me that if my 'anger' gets 'out of control', then I was to get myself out of any situation where I could become a 'potential danger' to the kid. So that's what I did. Hell, you have to do the same thing!"  
  
"But not nearly as much as you have to," Bulma accused, collapsing into the seat beside him. After a long, deep sigh, she looked over at him with a solemn expression. "Tell me the truth, Vejita--do you still find me attractive?"  
  
Vejita knew the answer to her question almost immediately, but he hesitated a moment before replying. He studied her youthful face, searching for a flaw. Her eyes were still the color of the ocean, her skin was as rosy as it had ever been, and her hair... He rolled his eyes, released it from its severe hairstyle, and shook his head. It was still long and straight, just like always. "Damn, woman, I wouldn't still be here if I didn't. You're only twenty-four, so don't be a fool. "  
  
Bulma sighed again and turned so that her back was to him. Her shoulders moved up and down in an exaggerated motion, like she was breathing hard or something. "That's good..." she breathed quietly. Vejita thought for a moment that she was going to elaborate on her strange question, but instead she began digging through the pockets of her outfit. "Now where the hell did I put those cigarettes?"  
  
The honest moment was broken, and surprisingly, Vejita found himself a bit angry at Bulma for it. He muttered curses under his breath and stood. "Woman, your fanatic smoking habit is enough to make me sick!" He reached over and swiped the cigarette from Bulma's hand. Ignoring her protests, he took her lighter and lit it for himself. "If there's anyone who needs these damned things around here, its me!"  
  
"Bulma, dear, Trunks is asking for you," Mrs. Briefs called from the kitchen. "Why don't you and Vejita bring your conversation in here?"  
  
"You know that we're not going to do that, Mom!" Bulma shouted back.   
  
Mrs. Briefs appeared in the doorway. She was donned in a ridiculous pink apron and had a dishtowel slung over her shoulder, just like a true housewife. "Oh, surely you wouldn't derive an old, senile woman from her favorite thing!"  
  
"Croquet?" Vejita suggested teasingly.   
  
Bulma shot him a dirty look. "And what would your favorite thing be, Mother?"  
  
Mrs. Briefs smiled. "Gossip, honey, fresh gossip! Bring it into the kitchen, and be quick about it!"  
  
Suddenly, the sounds of Trunks crying could be heard. Both Bulma and Vejita winced simultaneously.   
  
"Kami," Bulma muttered angrily. "Does that boy ever just SHUT UP?" Without waiting for an answer, she got up off the coach and stormed into the kitchen to tend to her child.  
  
Vejita stayed behind for a minute, collecting his thoughts and half-heartedly finishing Bulma's cigarette. He watched Bulma disappear into the kitchen and listened to her scold Trunks profusely, accusing him of just about every misbehavior under the sun. The young boy did not stop crying, but instead began sobbing harder. He was reminded of his own childhood and scowled. Though he was no parental mastermind himself, even he could see that Bulma was handling the upbringing of their child incorrectly.  
  
It wasn't like she knew any better, he reminded himself. She had never been in charge of another living, breathing thing in her entire life. She would adjust. But, thinking of all of the things that had happened to Bulma throughout her life, and all that she had overcome in the last couple years, Vejita could not bring himself to correct her. Instead, he got rid of the cigarette, brushed his negative thoughts aside, and followed Bulma into the kitchen, where dinner awaited.  
  
__________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
(A/N): I know that this first chapter was not much, but I felt that I had to set the scene a bit before I start in on all of the action. First off, I would like to address the complaints that a lot of people have had about the ending of 'Youth of the Nation', and also some of the wonderful compliments I received. As for the flames and complaints and such, perhaps I did rush it a bit, perhaps it was incorrect as far as the lawsuits went, but hey, nobody reads this fics for realism, do they? I mean, if you come to FanFiction.net, I assume that you are wanting to escape reality for a little while, so maybe you all shouldn't be so strict about whether something's exactly accurate or not. I certainly never claimed to be a governmental genuis! And as a matter of fact, when Bulma was arrested, she was 18 years old. I don't know if you all remember me mentioning that, and maybe I didn't, but she was a senior in high school, which made it very likely that she WAS 18. And to Lyn, the angry reviewer--if you hate me and my writing so much, why do you waste your 'precious' time? Jesus Christ, have you got any MORE complaints? I don't know what you consider a 'romantic encounter', but obviously our ideas of one differ. I'm definitely not a romantic, but I'm exactly cold-hearted either, despite what some people may think. If you have anything else to say, why don't you e-mail me personally and be strong about it? An unsigned review is hardly a nice way to relate such serious problems. And if you're reading this, then there really IS something seriously wrong with you, because if you didn't like 'Little Black Dress' OR 'Youth of the Nation', then why the hell do you think you're gonna like this one??! Okay, and now its time for me to thank all of the REST of you wonderful reviewers for your compliments. Especially Pathos and Stef-chan! You guys are soooooooooooo great! I couldn't keep going without the support of wonderful people like you. Second, I would like to say that no matter how much you guys beg, I will NOT rewrite the last chapter of 'Youth of the Nation', nor will I post an alternate ending. I personally do not want to waste the time on something that, in my mind, is already a done deal. So stop asking, puh-leeze! This all might sound mean, but I just had to get it off my chest. I've warned you once and I'll warn you again, Rhapsody's got quite a temper on her! ^_^;; So, if you find it appropriate, please be kind and leave a review for me! Ja ne!  
  
Rhapsody~*  
  
__________________________________________________________________________________________ 


	2. Chapter Two

...........................................................................................~* BROKEN HOME  
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*  
  
  
  
  
"Bulma, you have a call on line uhh...four I believe," Tammy, Bulma's secretary, shouted over the chaos in the main office of Capsule Corp. "They claimed that it was urgent!"  
  
Bulma sighed, set aside the stack of contracts she had to sign, hung up on the politician she was arguing with, and switched her speaker phone over to the appropriate line. "This is Bulma Briefs, how may I help you?" She motioned for Tammy to shut her door and settled back into her leather chair.  
  
"Wowee, Bulma, your business is like...all official and everything!"  
  
"Goku!" Bulma exclaimed in irritation. "How many times have I reminded you NOT to call me here! If you want to get a hold of Vejita, you'll have to call the home number."  
  
"Aw, I'm sorry...have I ever done that before?" Goku asked. Bulma could easily picture him scratching the back of his head in embarrasment. "I didn't want to talk to Vejita, though, I wanted to talk to YOU right now! Isn't that great?"  
  
Bulma ran a hand through her hair and rolled her eyes, grateful that Goku had not visited the office this time. "Goku, you're going to have to spit it out because I'm very busy right now. You know who the President of the United States of America is, don't you? Well, he's on line one and he's also a very busy man. I'm sure that we would both appreciate your speed! My secretary said that it was important, so can we get to the 'important' part please?"  
  
Goku laughed. "Oh yeah, that! Vejita and I are going to spar later this afternoon, so you're gonna hafta take care of Trunks when you get home. Vejita says that he isn't going to become your personal babysitter, whatever that means to you."  
  
Bulma gritted her teeth and supressed the urge to scream. "Thank you, Goku. Give Vejita a nice blow to the jaw for me, alright? Give the bastard what's coming to him." Before Goku could protest, she hung up the phone and transferred over to the President's line. "Mr. President? I'm terribly sorry about that. Just business as usual..."d  
  
Tammy, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, picked up on the tenseness in Bulma's voice. She frowned, flipped through her phone book, and dialed up Mrs. Briefs. Little Trunks had better hope that his mother would cool down this time.  
  
  
  
  
Hours later, Bulma cut short her meeting with the head scientists of the company and hurried out of the compound. She looked down at her gold watch and swore under her breath--she was over an hour late--and picked up the pace a bit, ignoring the searing pain in her feet resulting from jogging in high heels. When she finally burst through the door of the mansion, Mrs. Briefs had taken her position on a nearby chair, arms crossed and eyes disapproving.   
  
"I suppose that you have an excuse for being late this time around."  
  
Bulma nodded and set down her briefcase. "I had this stubborn ass of a scientist who would not agree to--" She stopped at the saddened expression on her mother's aging face. "What is it, Mom?"  
  
Mrs. Briefs sighed and looked down at her hands. "Its nothing, dear. I had just always hoped that...well, that you would grow out of your irresponsibility. I can't help but feel disappointed." Then she stood and began to leave. "I'll be home at around the usual time."  
  
Bulma could only stare, shocked, after her mother as she left. Words could not describe what she was feeling at the moment. Shock. Anger. Denial. Sadness. There's something truly wrong when your own mother can say that you are a disappointment, Bulma thought to herself. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts and remain focused, she picked her briefcase up again and crossed the room into the kitchen, where Trunks was finishing off his mid-afternoon snack.  
  
"Hi Mommy!" he greeted cheerfully. "Guess what? I drawed a horsey today. Gramma even putted it on the fridge! Wanna see?" His bright young eyes were dancing with pride.  
  
Bulma looked up briefly, only catching half of what her son was saying. "Oh! That's nice, honey. When did your father leave?"  
  
Trunks' eyes darkened and became full of disappointment. "I dunno. Prolly 'round lunchtime." With another downcast look towards his preoccupied mother and then to his 'masterpiece' on the refridgerator, he picked up his plate, put it in the sink, and walked slowly out of the room and up the stairs.  
  
"Where are you going, Trunks?" Bulma shouted after him, hands on her hips.   
  
"My room!"  
  
"Your ROOM?!" Bulma demanded. "Don't you think that you play enough video games already? Get your ass back down here, please!" She didn't wait to see if he obeyed, she merely went back to shuffling through her papers, searching for a memo.   
  
Trunks appeared back in the doorway. "Then what can I do, Mommy? You just told me to go 'way..."  
  
Bulma waved a hand in his direction. "Shut up for a minute, can't you see that I'm busy?" She found the memo and settled into a chair with it. Upon reading its contents, her fingers went to the ring in her nose, as they often did when she was becoming stressed. "Shit! I thought I told those idiots to cancel that account..."  
  
"What account?" Trunks asked eagerly, taking the chair beside his mother with renewed happiness.   
  
"Dammit, Trunks!" Bulma screeched. Suddenly and without warning, she seized his arm and practically pushed him out of his chair to the floor. "I told you before to keep your mouth shut!" With a roll of her eyes, she went back to studying the memo, her eyes narrowed dangerously.   
  
"You're mean!" Trunks screamed defiantly. "You're meaner even than Daddy!"  
  
Bulma slammed her papers back onto the counter and got up out of her chair just in time to catch Trunks, who had begun to flee, by the back of his shirt. "You little brat!" she scolded. "I am NOT meaner than your father!"  
  
"Uh-huh!" Trunks argued, sticking his little pink tongue out at Bulma, who was getting red in the face.  
  
"Uh-uh!"   
  
"Uh-huh!"   
  
"Uh-uh...what the fuck am I doing?" Bulma recomposed herself and smacked Trunks smartly across the face. She left a bright pink handprint behind. "Now you'd better get out of my sight before I get REALLY mad!"  
  
After shooting her one last bold look through his tears, Trunks turned and ran out of the room and out of sight. Bulma sighed and climbed back onto her chair. All of a sudden, she felt disgusted with herself. Here she was, technically single and quickly approaching age twenty-five, and she couldn't even hold her emotions in check around her own child. The memos and documents before her suddenly lost their importance. Bulma moved them aside, put her head in her hands, and took a deep breath.  
  
"Calm down, Bulma!" she reminded herself. "You're beginning to act a little like Vejita, and that's scary."  
  
It was true. Bulma wondered if, at this alarming rate, she would be more violent than Vejita himself by the time Trunks was half-way through with his childhood. She shuddered at the thought and, in the heat of the moment, pulled a cigarette out from her briefcase, lit it, and took a long drag. She had picked up the bad habit ever since her father had died and her cravings for certain...substances began coming back in full force. Cigarettes didn't chase them away, but they made them a hell of a lot easier to deal with. She had had to do a lot of growing up during that time, so she figured that she owed it to herself to give in a little bit. Bulma finished her cigarette and found herself lighting up another one almost immediately after without realizing it. Okay, she had given in a lot, but what was a girl to do?  
  
Glancing down at her watch, Bulma realized that if what Trunks had said was true, than Vejita had been gone for hours now. Shaking her head in frustration, the girl contemplated calling Goku's house to order him to come back, but decided against it. She and her 'mate' were alike in many ways, and she knew instinctively that that would only piss them both off more, and that was something that she would definitely be wiser to avoid. And then, without warning, the phone rang. Bulma nearly fell out of her seat in surprise.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hello yourself." Chichi's voice was calm, cool, and collected, as usual when she was speaking to Bulma these days. "Since your hus-- I mean, Vejita, is too lazy to pick his ass up and come to the phone, it was left to me to invite you over for dinner."  
  
"For dinner?" Bulma asked incredulously. "But I'm watching Trunks right now, and--"  
  
Chichi cut her off abruptly. "Oh damn, then I guess that you can't come."  
  
Bulma's blood boiled at the prospect of Chichi getting off that easily. "Well, actually, my mother will be returning shortly, so its entirely possible. I suppose I'll be seeing you soon."  
  
"That's fine," Chichi snapped. "Good-bye for now."  
  
Bulma made a face at the phone and hung up. "Good-bye my ass! Evil bitch..." All thoughts of anything besides making Chichi's dinner as miserable as possible vanished from her mind, and the determined girl stampeded to her bedroom in search of something to wear.   
  
  
  
  
The devious girl left her house forty-five minutes later, after turning the sulking Trunks over to her mother, who was also in a bad mood. Bulma ignored her sarcasm and instead concentrated on elaborating her plans. She hadn't been able to come up with anything concrete, but it was the little things that really mattered, wasn't it? She had heard that somewhere... Anyway, she stepped out into the summer evening expecting to take her SUV, but upon reaching it, she got a better idea.   
  
Bulma turned on her heel and entered the enormous garage, where every kind of foreign and custom-designed car and motorbike imaginable could be found. It didn't take her long to find the one she wanted--the fire-engine red Ferrari that her father had purchased as a present for Vejita--but finding the keys was another matter. It took her another fifteen minutes just to determine which set belonged to the beautiful machine.  
  
"Shit, shit shit..." Bulma growled as she slid into the driver's seat and revved the purring engine. It took her a few moments to get her foot steady (driving in high-heels was something that she tried never to do, especially in a powerful car such as this one), but instead of hesitating any further, she backed hastily out of the garage and burned rubber almost all the way to Chichi and Goku's house.   
  
When she finally arrived there, the sun was just beginning to set, and all was quiet around the remote location. Bulma wrinkled her nose in disgust and pulled down her sunglasses as she got out of her car. If anyone important saw her in such a dinky little rustic place, she would never be able to live it down! She locked the car and blew it a mischevious kiss before heading up to the front porch of the small home. Not surprisingly, Chichi took her sweet time answering the door.  
  
"Oh, so you decided to show up," she acknowledged coolly. "How...nice."  
  
"Bitch," Bulma muttered under her breath as she followed Chichi into the house. Before stepping into the main room, Bulma slid her sweater off of her shoulders and grinned. "So, Chichi, how do you like my dress?"  
  
Chichi looked over her shoulder, prepared with a biting remark, but it died before it could cross her lips. Bulma was wearing an almost impossibly tiny, nearly transparent floral patterned sundress. It reached to about mid-thigh and had tiny, almost undetectable spaghetti straps. Bulma had opted not to wear a bra, as she often did during the summer, so the overall effect was that much worse to a conservative woman like Chichi. She had left her hair down and straightened, save for the strands that were pushed back by her sunglasses, which she had shoved back on top of her head.   
  
"It suits you," Chichi dismissed curtly, turning away once again. "Goku and Vejita are in the living room."  
  
Both Goku and Vejita stared as she entered, though their expression were opposite. Goku looked shocked and a bit confused while Vejita looked suspicious and even a bit smug, which made Bulma smile. Chichi wasted no time in escaping and disappeared in the kitchen, where Bulma assumed the food was cooking.  
  
"What?" Bulma asked innocently, looking down at her outfit. "You guys don't like it?"  
  
Vejita smirked and turned back to the TV. "I wouldn't say that."  
  
"It looks an awful lot like what you used to wear when we were traveling with Yamcha way back when!" Goku exclaimed. "Doesn't it? You used to call it your 'magnetic dress', whatever that means. Was it because a lot of guys talked to you when you wore it?"  
  
At that moment, you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Vejita, Bulma could see, was having an especially hard time containing himself. To relieve the tension, Bulma put on a happy face and chuckled.  
  
"You never fail to crack me up, Son-Kun."   
  
"Crack you up?" Goku asked, clearly puzzled. "Was what I said funny?"  
  
Bulma ignored his question and moved to sit beside Vejita, who was rolling his eyes at his sparring partner in disgust. "Did we have to eat over here?" she asked quietly, so that Goku would not overhear. "You know how Chichi and I don't get along."  
  
Vejita looked her up and down and cocked a brow. "Don't ask questions that you already know the answers to. She's cooking steak tonight, and Kami knows that your fool mother won't cook it for me anymore."  
  
"She's trying to promote a healthy diet, especially with Trunks growing so fast."  
  
"Consuming raw vegetables and tofu is hardly a healthy diet for a Saiyan," Vejita protested. "Eating over there is going to turn the kid into a fucking bunny rabbit!"  
  
Bulma snorted. "She's doing her best to please you. She even cooked ribs for you last week! That's the next best thing to having a servant, Your Majesty."  
  
Vejita scowled doubtfully and examined her outfit once again. He snapped one of the straps skeptically, causing Bulma to jump. "What's this? And why the hell did you decide to drive MY car?"  
  
It was Bulma's turn to smirk. "Oh, its nothing. I'm just feeling a bit...spontaneous today."  
  
"Bullshit," Vejita said automatically. "Something's up. You're only 'spontaneous' when I'm too exhausted to do something about it."  
  
Bulma punched his shoulder playfully. "Asshole! Okay, I confess--I'm trying to piss Chichi off, and it seems to be working quite nicely." The sounds of pots and pans banging unnecessarily in the kitchen could be heard sporatically throughout the conversation. "What do you think? Want to play along?"  
  
Vejita, who was just relieved that she was acting like her normal self for once, would have readily agreed to tie Chichi up and lock her in a closet if Bulma had suggested it (of course, he would have done that readily any day, but you get the gist). "I think that you should have come naked. You would probably be able to hear the bitch screaming all the way back in civilization."  
  
"Probably," Bulma agreed. "So come on, help me! Nobody can get her going like you can..." To help make up his mind, Bulma scooted a little closer and smiled a sultry little smile. "Please?"  
  
"Your ridiculous little tricks are unnecessary," Vejita snapped, trying to maintain the upper hand. "I'll agree, but only if YOU promise ME something."  
  
Bulma narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What?"  
  
"I get to drive on the way home."  
  
  
  
  
By the time they all sat down to eat dinner, which, as Vejita had said, turned out to be steak, both Bulma and Vejita had had ample time to contemplate the upcoming opportunity. They ended up seated across from each other, with Goku and Chichi at both ends of the table facing each other. Little Gohan was thankfully absent due to a sudden stomachache. Goku, as usual, carried the conversation along throughout the meal. That is, until Bulma seized control of it.  
  
"So then I aimed a pretty good ki blast at Vejita, but that rascal was just too darned fast for me!" Goku was explaining, his face animated. Bulma was containing her laughter, because he also happened to be speaking with a full mouth. "He beat me this time, but believe me, it won't happen again."  
  
"Keep on dreaming, Kakkarott," Vejita challenged coolly. "The day that you become stronger than me is the day that I die, which will not be anytime in the near future."  
  
"Unless someone wisely decides to get rid of you, which may be sooner than you think, at this rate," Chichi snapped, gripping her silverware with white knuckles.  
  
Bulma recognized her opportunity and smiled in a friendly, helpful manner. "You know, Chichi, extreme stress is a sure sign of a struggling sex life. If I were you, I would make some efforts to improve that aspect of you and Goku's lifestyle."  
  
Vejita was almost forced to spit his food back out onto his plate, but caught himself. The comment went right over Goku's head, which was not surprising. Chichi, however, appeared to be thoroughly pissed off.   
  
"Excuse me?" she rasped in disbelief.  
  
"I said that stress is a sure sign of a struggling sex life," Bulma informed her seriously. Inwardly she was rejoicing at her flawless performance. "You and Goku are sexually active, aren't you?"  
  
The table was silent for a moment before anybody spoke up. Vejita took the opportunity to meet Bulma's eyes and made a crude gesture that Bulma knew all too well. She held back giggles and pressed on determinedly.  
  
"Well, if you aren't, you don't have to take the plunge immediately. There is always, well, oral sex. Hell, if you're too queasy to even do THAT, then I suppose its time for you to make use of those opposable thumbs that Kami blessed you with." Bulma was having a hard time not bursting out in hysterical laughter. Goku was staring at her incredulously, and Chichi's face was getting redder by the minute. "Hello? Is anybody in there?"  
  
Chichi brought herself out of her state of shock and adopted a wide-eyed expression that was truly comical. In fact, Bulma thought she saw Vejita hide a grin behind his hand. "You..." she stammered. "You...you have to be the most premiscuous woman I've ever had the displeasure of encountering! How dare you ask me such questions at my own dinner table!"  
  
Bulma shrugged innocently. "I don't understand your shock, Chichi. Sex is a perfectly normal, healthy thing. I mean, you guys had to have done it already, or Gohan wouldn't be here, and hey, lets face it, the resemblence gives you guys away."  
  
"Kami intended...sex...to be a means of reproduction," Chichi argued tersely. "He certainly didn't mean for people like YOU to twist it and make it something that should be a cause for shame."  
  
"Are you accusing me of being overly kinky?" Bulma teased, feigning shock. "I can't believe this! You can even ask Vejita, I'm not that kind of girl." Vejita almost lost his cool for a moment, but then thankfully recovered.  
  
Expecting a conservative answer, Chichi asked, "Then what kind of girl are you, miss Bulma Briefs?"  
  
Bulma appeared thoughtful for a moment, then grinned joyfully. "I would definitely not describe myself as kinky, but rather as a whip-and-chains kind of girl. That isn't so bad, is it?"  
  
Chichi's eyes were looking like they were about to fall out of her head and into her plate, which was nearly untouched. "Dear Kami..."  
  
"Come on, Chichi," Bulma encouraged. "I confessed to my preferences, so its only fair that you confess to some of yours. I really think that I can help you with this problem. You a fan of flavored condoms? Come on, you seem like a cherry-vanilla kind of woman to me, but I could always be wrong--"  
  
"I think not!" Chichi exclaimed firmly, cutting Bulma off in midsentence. "I have no such 'preferences', and to be quite honest I have no desire to hear about yours! Now could you please SHUT UP and allow us to enjoy this meal?"  
  
But Bulma was not to be defeated so easily. "Come on, Chichi, if I can't get anything out of you, then I'm just going to go ask Goku about it." At the look of pure venom Chichi shot her, she hid a smile and laid the subject to rest. "Or not."  
  
Vejita smirked and cleared his throat. "So, uh, woman, pass the food over, why don't you?"  
  
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(A/N): Wow, this was a long chapter compared to what I usually write! Lucky you guys! In regard to a few questions I got, Bulma is twenty-four currently, but her twenty-fifth birthday is coming up quickly, and thats why she told Goku that she felt 'old'. And also, I changed the original timeline a bit so that Goku and Chichi are older instead of four years younger or whatever it was. Couldn't tell you why, I just...did! Anyway, come on guys, give me some feedback! And on THIS fic, please! If you want to comment on 'Youth of the Nation' some more, as some of you have, then please review for THAT fic and not this one, please. And to those who wanted me to start a new fic and then do this one after, I'm really sorry, I couldn't put this one off any longer.. If you feel like talking (I always love to chat!) feel free to IM me! My screen name is Hawaiian Babay, just like e-mail address! So I'll leave you on a pleasant note (for once) and say 'ja ne'!  
  
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	3. IMPORTANTAuthor's Note

...........................................................................................~* AN AUTHOR'S NOTE  
......................................................................................................................... From Rhapsody~*  
  
  
  
  
Okay, this isn't really my style, but I'm gonna do it anyway. I....GIVE...UP! Don't quite understand why? Take a look down at the review count for this story so far. Five! FIVE! Ahhh! I dunno about all of you other authors, but I'm in this for the reviews, the compliments, and the constructive critism. The only reason I decided to make a sequel for 'Little Black Dress' is because a lot of you asked for it! And now I do it, and I get almost no response at all. I don't know about the rest of you, but that is reason enough for me to stop in my tracks. If I recall correctly, I received about 126 reviews for 'Little Black Dress'. Why should I waste my time and effort (and precious space on the hard drive!) writing something that I have no idea if anybody is even READING? I know that there are a few people who DID review, and I'm sorry if this is some kind of punishment for you guys. It really isn't because of you (Are you kidding me?! I LOVE you guys!), its because of well....all of the invisible reviews that I'm not getting.   
  
Even if you don't like or enjoy what I'm writing now, and thats why you aren't reviewing, you could still leave a review giving me your negative thoughts or even telling me how I could improve the fic and make it more enjoyable for you. I know that its against my character to leave long, worshipping reviews, and its probably against a bunch of you guys' too, but thats not what I'm asking for. All I ask is that you acknowledge the fact that you have read the chapter and maybe even leave a thought or two. It would mean a lot to me. ^_____^;;  
  
I hate to do this, but at this rate, it looks like I'm gonna have to. I have plenty of other ideas in the back of my mind (I even have one that I'm in the process of developing into a fic!) and I don't want to waste my time trying to finish one that nobody's reading. In case some you can't tell, I'm getting really frustrated here.   
  
I'm currently 3/4 done with the next chapter of this fic, and if the response for that is the same, then I'm going to trash this fic and go right on ahead with another fic thats in the works, tentatively titled 'Pitch Black'. I'm really excited and optimistic about the idea, and I think that its gonna turn out to be one of my better fics, so maybe if you don't like this one, you can have something else to look forward to. If you want me to just forget about this one and start the other one, then by all means, tell me! I'm open to all opinions at this point.  
  
I'm going to leave it at that. I know that you probably are sick of my blabbing on already. The next chapter should be posted, if even, in a day or two. Check up on my profile for the next couple days to see what I decide, kay? Ja ne!  
  
  
............................................................................................... 3 Rhapsody  
HawaiianBabay@aol.com.....AIM Hawaiian Babay 


	4. Chapter Three

...........................................................................................~* BROKEN HOME  
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*  
  
  
  
  
Needless to say, Vejita got his one promise and was given the opportunity to drive HIS car home, and Bulma's clever little 'plan' had gone over extremely well. Chichi had practically kicked them out of her house the moment the last crumb of food was consumed, which wasn't very long after the strange turn in the conversation. The car ride home was silent for the most part, until Vejita decided to initiate conversation.  
  
"You seem to be in an unusually good mood," he commented coolly. "Is there anything that I should be worried about? A broken oven? A glitch in the gravity room?" He then got a horrific idea. "That little dip-shit didn't break the controls, did he?!"  
  
Bulma shot him a scolding look and shook her head. "No. The only thing that came close to being broken was HIM. Kami, he gets more like you every day." Outside, small raindrops began to fall from the gray clouds that had gathered while they were eating dinner.   
  
Vejita was not amused. "What do you mean you almost broke him? What the hell happened this time?"  
  
"Nothing!" Bulma protested, crossing her arms. "The kid was telling me about something he put on the fridge, and I was busy at the moment, so I couldn't look at it. It put him in a pissy mood, of course, so he started running his mouth."  
  
"And?" Vejita watched her out of the corners of his eyes expectantly. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Bulma was leaving something important out. "Come on woman, spit it out!"  
  
"So I smacked him!" Bulma exclaimed, frowning. "Kami, you're acting like you've never done it before."  
  
"Has the possibility that perhaps I haven't ever cross your little mind?" Vejita responded, on the defensive now. "I have never layed a damn hand on that brat!" He thought back to the few occasions where he had pushed him around a bit and the training he had been providing. "At least not to hit him, anyway."  
  
Bulma emitted a small choking sound that sounded suspiciously like the beginnings of tears. Vejita groaned and pulled over the car, his movements tight and jerky with frustration. They sat in silence for a few minutes before either one spoke up. It began to rain harder, and Vejita cursed at his misfortune. Not only was it dark, but now there was a downpour.  
  
"You've been dealing with Trunks for what, almost four long years now?" Vejita asked quietly, making an attempt to calm Bulma down before things got ugly. "Why the fuck would you give up NOW?"  
  
Bulma turned away from him and shook her head. Vejita caught a glimpse of tears streaming down her previously happy face and felt a pang of regret, but it didn't last long. They never did. It seemed like he was doing all of the encouraging as of late, all of the encouraging that he would have thought would be necessary for HIM. He scowled and massaged his throbbing temples before speaking.  
  
"Don't be a fool, woman," Vejita said harshly. "If I can remain sane throughout all of this shit, then you can."  
  
"No," Bulma whispered, resting her forehead against the window of the car pathetically. The combination of filtered moonlight and heavy raindrops cast eerie shadows throughout the car and on her sorrowful face. "I can't. I can't do it anymore, Vejita. I can't even learn to love my own son..." Her quiet cries got more intense, and her shoulders began to shake. "I can't..."  
  
Vejita was reminded of the multiple times Bulma had experienced similar misgivings in the past and realized something--no matter how happy she could become, it would always be followed by a period of depression. She was like a human roller coaster, always going up and down and then, well, FURTHER down. For the life of him, he could not think of anything to say to her confession. Was there anything that COULD be said? Instead he gripped the steering wheel of the car tightly, trying to relieve some of the tension that was building up inside him.  
  
"I'm sorry," Bulma was muttering. She wrapped her arms around herself and gazed out of her window and into the rain hopelessly. "Why can't we be happy? Why?" Her tears began falling faster until at last she succumbed to her emotions and began sobbing in despair.  
  
Vejita released the steering wheel and rested his head back against his seat. He closed his eyes, fighting to remain calm, cool, and collected, and then rested a hand on Bulma's trembling back. He felt her cool skin tense beneath his fingers. "Nobody's ever going to be completely happy until the day they croak, and even then there's no guarantees. Believe me, I know. Hell wasn't exactly Disneyland." He felt her relax a bit, and trailed his hand down to her waist, where he sighed and refrained from touching her.  
  
"You always did suck at the whole comforting thing." Bulma chuckled half-heartedly through her tears. "You're wrong. Look at Goku, Chichi, and Gohan. I...I hate to admit it, but they've got a much better life than we've ever had. That's how its always gonna be." After exhaling slowly, she shifted so that her tear-soaked face was towards him. "Just shut the hell up and take me home."  
  
Under any other circumstances, Vejita would have returned the favor and told her to walk her ass home or something of that sort, but the look in her eyes scared him to the point of defeat. She had the expression of somebody who was utterly and completely lost within their own life, the kind of expression that animals in the zoo had. They lived their life, sure, and they had their happy moments, like feeding time, but by the end of the day, they are what they are--caged. Trapped.  
  
Vejita drove her home.  
  
  
  
  
When they finally reached the mansion, Bulma jumped out of the car and ran up the stairs. Vejita cringed at the sound of the bedroom door slamming behind her and continued on his way to the kitchen. Mrs. Briefs was, of course, inside baking some kind of pie. Her eyes were troubled, and Vejita could guess why. He took his usual seat at the counter and watched her knead the dough, his black eyes glazed over in thought.  
  
"Got something on your mind, dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked gently. "You look terrible."  
  
Vejita looked up at her with a scowl. "Hey, you aren't looking too fantastic yourself, Mother Time."  
  
Mrs. Briefs stopped her kneading and put her hands on her aproned hips. "Well now! Somebody's in a bad mood tonight." She shook her head and went back to the dough with a good-natured smile. "Don't fret, Vejita, I know why you're so thoughtful tonight. That daughter of mine is getting worse, isn't she?"  
  
"You don't know what you're talking about," Vejita snapped, not liking her nosy questions.   
  
"Oh, but I do," Mrs. Briefs disagreed. "I do. I came home today and before I could figure out what had happened while I was gone, Bulma was out the door in some ridiculous dress without a word. I was forced to pry open Trunks' bedroom door and get some answers out of the poor child."  
  
"And what did the kid say?"  
  
Mrs. Briefs' eyes shone with unshed tears. She stopped kneading and looked up at the ceiling, fighting them back. When she looked back down, Vejita could see that she hadn't been entirely successful. A single tear ran down her wrinkled cheek. "He said..." She stopped and sniffled a bit. "He said that his mother HIT him, and SCREAMED at him, and... The poor little dear was a mess." She picked up the dough and layed it into the pie pan.  
  
Vejita sighed and put his head into his hands. "Shit."  
  
Mrs. Briefs raised her eyebrows in surprise. "That's all? I would have thought that you would have a bit more to say. You usually do."  
  
"Spare me," Vejita replied carelessly, eyeing the pan. "What kind of pie is that going to be?"  
  
Mrs. Briefs sighed at Vejita's coldness and wiped away her tears. "Blueberry, I suppose."  
  
"That's good," Vejita commented blandly. "Where's the kid?"  
  
"Upstairs in his room, I think," Mrs. Briefs replied, offering a warm, motherly smile. "Let's hope that you can learn to be a better parent to him that his mother turned out to be." She then dumped the fruit into the pie carelessly and shoved it into the oven. Before Vejita could protest, she had hurried out of sight.  
  
He shook his head and left the room to go to the stairs. It only took a few seconds for him to reach Trunks' room. He was grateful that he didn't have to pass his and Bulma's room first, because he knew what he would hear if he did. Bulma, crying. Alone. Nothing unusual, but an uncomfortable situation nonetheless. He chose not to knock on his son's door, but instead walked right in.  
  
"Hi, Dad," Trunks greeted half-heartedly. He was sprawled out on the floor in front of his television, watching some action-adventure moving involving a lot of shooting and killing. It was just the kind of movie that Vejita himself liked to watch, and he suspected that that was the reason that Trunks was studying what was going on so intently. Vejita smirked and leaned against the doorway.   
  
"What do you think you're doing, boy?" he demanded in the sort-of firm, sort-of not voice that he only used with his son. "You have to be alert at six tomorrow morning for training."  
  
"I don't think that I can go to sleep right now, Dad," Trunks said quietly, his eyes never leaving the television. "Today, Mommy hit me again. She was yelling, too. I was scared, but I did just what you said. I didn't give in, and I talked defensive. She got mad when I did that." He looked down at his little hands and swallowed nervously. "Are you mad at me, too?"  
  
Vejita crossed the room to stand behind his son and sighed in frustration. "Hell no, boy, I wasn't there."  
  
Trunks looked up at his father with a tiny smile on his chubby face. "I'm glad."  
  
"Hn," Vejita acknowleged, moving to Trunks' bed and laying out on his back. "Now be quiet, I haven't seen this movie yet." He shuddered inwardly at how soft he had almost acted.   
  
"Okay, Daddy."   
  
For the first time in Trunks' life, Vejita did not correct him.  
  
  
  
  
Bulma woke up the next morning in the position that she had fallen asleep in--meaning that Vejita had never come up to bed. Before she put effort into analyzing that, she dragged her tired body up from the floor of the balcony and walked slowly back inside, feeling like a zombie. A glance into the mirror confirmed that not only did she feel like a zombie, but she looked like one also. After taking a brief shower, she set about making herself human once again. Throwing on a tank top and a pair of short boxers, Bulma began making her way down to the kitchen, where her mother would most likely be making breakfast. And if she had learned anything about Vejita throughout all of this time, it was that wherever there was breakfast, there would probably be Vejita.  
  
Her guess turned out to be correct--Vejita was sitting beside Trunks at the kitchen counter. They both wore identical expressions of extreme hunger. If Bulma had been a bit wider awake, she would have laughed at the sight, but unfortunately, she was not. Without a word, she took a seat on the other side of Vejita, where she didn't have to look her son in the eye. In her opinion, he could always be dealt with later.  
  
"Sleeping Beauty has awakened," Vejita quipped, eyeing her skimpy 'pajamas'. "Though she does appear to be a bit hungover."  
  
"Where were you last night?" Bulma asked quietly, so that her mother and son would not overhear. "I woke up on the balcony. My coworkers will probably have posted pictures of me in that little dress around the office by now."  
  
"Fuck your coworkers," Vejita dismissed curtly. "I was watching a movie with the brat."  
  
"Touching, but hard to believe," Bulma said doubtfully. "You? Spend voluntary time with your son?"  
  
Vejita narrowed his eyes. "I spend more time with the boy than you, woman."  
  
Bulma had no reply to that, so she raised her voice and turned to her mother, who was trying hard to hide her eavesdropping. "So Mom, what's on the menu this morning?"  
  
"French toast," Mrs. Briefs replied cheerfully. "Isn't that right, Trunks? I hear that its your favorite."  
  
Trunks nodded. "Yup! Hey Daddy, how long do you think I have before I can fly?"  
  
Vejita smirked. "A lot longer then you might be thinking, little one."  
  
"Hey!" Trunks exclaimed.   
  
Bulma watched the two with amazement. "Wow, Vejita, what movie did you guys watch?"  
  
Trunks, who now seemed willing to take a second chance on his mother, turned to her and smiled. "It was a great movie, Mom! There was a lot of guns and killing and stuff. You wouldn't like it."  
  
"I'm sure that I wouldn't," Bulma replied breezily. "It sounds more like you and your father's kind of thing."  
  
"Breakfast is ready!" Mrs. Briefs announced, filling up three plates and handing them to the small, un-traditional family. "Enjoy, kids, I'm off to Mrs. Debussy's. She just fell in love with your dress that night four years ago, Bulma, and we've been great chums ever since. We're going shopping again, I suppose. Good-bye!"  
  
Bulma watched her go, then frowned at Vejita. "She might have liked the dress, but she gossiped all over town about my nose ring not even a day after."  
  
"Can't you see that I'm eating, woman?" Vejita asked incredulously. "I don't give a shit about the social scene among your mother's pathetic circle of friends."  
  
Bulma quieted and stared down at her plate of food, her stomach churning. Suddenly, the meal did not look so appetizing. "I'm going to get ready for work."  
  
Vejita stopped his eating and raised an eyebrow. "Its Sunday, woman, you don't have work."  
  
Bulma paused, her mind reeling. "Uh...oh. I don't know what's wrong with me today..." She settled back into her seat and brushed her hair out of her face with her hands. "I'll have to find something to do, then."  
  
Trunks finished off his food and grinned broadly. "That was great! Hey Mom, can we go to the mall today, pleeeease?"  
  
Vejita started and glared at his son incredulously. "The mall?! What the hell is wrong with you?"  
  
"Nothin'!" Trunks protested, scrunching his little face up in irriatation. "I want to get a video game!"  
  
"A video game?" Bulma wrinkled her nose. "That doesn't sound like something I want to waste money on."  
  
Trunks crossed his arms, making him look a lot like his father. "But Mommy, you have enough money! I want to get a VIDEO GAME!"  
  
Vejita groaned and covered his sensitive ears. "Kami, boy, do you think you could talk any louder?" He pushed his plate aside, leaving it for someone else (meaning Bulma or her mother) to clean, and headed off for the gravity room. "Do what you want, I don't give a shit."  
  
"See!" Trunks prodded. "Dad doesn't care!"  
  
Bulma gritted her teeth and fought to maintain her temper. "Trunks, I'm warning you. DON'T push it. Mommy is a little bit tired today, and she doesn't feel like dragging you around the mall all day."  
  
"But Mooooom," Trunks whined. "You always let me get video games!"  
  
"You never learn, do you?!" Bulma shouted. "You're heading the right way for punishment, Trunks, and you KNOW it!"  
  
Trunks made a teasing face at the infuriated Bulma. "But Mom, if you hit me again, I'm gonna tell Daddy on you!"  
  
"Vejita is not my boss," Bulma pointed out childishly. "I'm free to raise you the way that I see fit, young man!"  
  
"Yeah he is!" Trunks insisted naively. "I even heard Uncle Yamcha tell Uncle Krillen last week that he's got ya whipped into shape so that he can keep gettin' some. And then Uncle Krillen told Uncle Yamcha and Uncle Master Roshi that you would probably give in anyway cuz you have always been a pretty darned horny girl, whatever that means."  
  
Bulma's face turned beet red with fury. "He did, did he? Well, 'Uncle' Yamcha, 'Uncle' Krillen, and Master Roshi are going to be hearing from me VERY soon!" She scooped Trunks up from his seat and started on her way to her room, her pretty face set in determination. "Come on, Trunks, we're going to be paying them a little visit today..."  
  
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(A/N): Read the author's note...that's all that I have to say!  
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	5. Another Author's Note

...........................................................................................~* AN AUTHOR'S NOTE...(again)  
......................................................................................................................... From Rhapsody~*  
  
  
  
(A/N): Yeesh, I've gotta get what I have to say out before FF.net busts me for posting stuff that isn't fanfiction! LoL anyway I was surprised at some of the reactions I've been getting. I'm so happy to know that there are more than five people reading this....^_^....But anyway I've made my decision, and I'm gonna be firm with it!  
  
I've decided that I'm NOT, I repeat, NOT going to delete this fic, I'm merely gonna push it aside a bit. I'm gonna write and post my new fic, which is definitely coming along quickly now, and work on this one at the same time. It'll be a second-priority thing, you know? Knowing me, I'll be killing my schedule and working on them both equally, but this is my proposed plan for now. I have to admit that I really like this one, its quite easy for me to write.....perhaps because I haven't had the best childhood either, but at any rate it has been flowing at a pretty fluent rate.  
  
And also, I'm sure if I have your pen name right, but ummm.....Felessta?? Sorry I'm bad with names, but thanks for your thoughts! I won't post anything mean next to your name...just compliments! LoL I'm sorry if I scare you. I suppose I'm going to have to tone my attitude down a bit from here on out...*blushes*....I'm really glad that you told me about how you felt, I apprieciate it! And to Misty---thanks for your nice ideas! It isn't very often that somebody actually takes the time to e-mail me and offer ideas! I'll keep them in mind, kay?  
  
And while I'm off the subject and everything....^_~....I'd like to congratulate Stef-chan, one of my all-time favorite writers EVER, on a fantastic chapter of 'Traumatized'. Whew you blew me away! Anyway....haha!  
  
Thanks for all of your wonderful responses...  
  
............................................................................ Rhapsody~*  
.........................................................................................HawaiianBabay@aol.com, AIM Hawaiian Babay 


	6. Chapter Four

...........................................................................................~* BROKEN HOME  
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*  
When Bulma finally got around to dressing herself in her favorite red bathing suit, a white tube top, a denim skirt, and a silver studded belly-button ring, Trunks had decided that he was going to fool around on the beach, too, so she was forced to spend an extra hour arguing with him about what swim shorts to wear. She had packed a bag of their beach things and was almost out the door when Vejita stopped her and Trunks in mid-step.  
  
"Where are you going today, woman?" He had apparently just come from an intense training session, because he was shirtless and just a little bit sweaty. Bulma felt her heart skip a beat unexpectedly and ran a hand through her loose hair to cover up the little 'glitch' in her thoughts.  
  
"Trunks was telling me an interesting uh, STORY, and I have to go set the record straight with the storytellers," she explained, shifting Trunks over to her other hip.   
  
"Hn," Vejita acknowledged with a scowl. "So you're going to see the old perv and his ridiculous posse of weak human idiots. Wait for a few minutes, I would very much like to witness this for myself." Without waiting for her reply, he turned and made his way up to their room leisurely.  
  
"That man," Bulma growled under her breath, a trait acquired by spending so much time with Vejita. "He can never do what's best for ME, can he?"  
  
Trunks pouted and pulled at the ties of Bulma's bathing suit with his little hands.. "Mommy, I wanna go SWIMMING!"  
  
"We're GOING!" Bulma replied, setting him down to relieve the pressure on her hip. "We have to wait for your damned father, so hold on a minute." She proceeded to examine her red nails and decided that it was time to schedule an appointment with her manicurist. Soon.  
  
Vejita came back down the stairs a few minutes later dressed in his swim shorts and a casual tank top with a beach towel slung over his shoulder. "Tell me what they said."  
  
Bulma winced a bit. "Well, uh, they were talking about..."  
  
Trunks giggled and pulled on Vejita's shorts, eager to run his mouth. "I know! I know!"  
  
"Then tell me, boy, for Kami's sake," Vejita demanded. "And stop that or else I'll give you another hole to breath out of."  
  
Trunks was not distressed at this empty threat. "Well, Uncle Yamcha told Uncle Krillen that you've got Mommy whipped into shape--" Vejita shot an amused look at Bulma, who's face was beginning to grow increasingly red in anger. "so that you can keep on getting 'some', whatever that means, and--"  
  
"That ignorant, jealous ass..." Bulma murmured.  
  
Trunks stuck his little tongue out at her interupption and continued as they exited the house. "And then Uncle Krillen told the others that it wouldn't take much 'cause Mommy was always a pretty darned horny girl. I don't know what that means either, though." He shrugged apologetically and hopped into the aircar that Bulma had released from a capsule. "Why is Mommy so mad?"  
  
Vejita chuckled at Bulma's enraged expression, though he wouldn't mind giving Yamcha and Krillen a good shake or two (or three, or four...) for their comments himself. "She's mad because she knows that what they said is true." He smoothly dodged and caught the set of car keys that was thrown at his head. "I think that I should drive this time around..."  
  
"Fine," Bulma snapped, crossing her arms in frustration. "But step on it, I want to work on my tan before it gets dark."  
When the three arrived at Master Roshi's tropical island, all three of Trunks' gossipy 'uncles' were present. They were engaged in a game of sand volleyball and hardly noticed them land the aircar on the other side of the island. Trunks jumped out of the car and sprinted (Vejita hadn't deemed him strong enough to fly quite yet) across the island to meet Yamcha, Master Roshi, and Krillen, who were more than a little surprised to observe the small half-Saiyan do a nosedive into the surf without so much as a hello. Bulma and Vejita took their time crossing the small island, so the three went back to their game of volleyball.  
  
"What are you planning to do?" Vejita asked as they made their way around the island.   
  
"Does it matter?" Bulma said. "I could probably beat the shit out of all three of them, or you could always do it for me."   
  
"It would be my pleasure." Vejita smirked slowly. "But Yamcha would probably bawl like a little girl, and that would be too painful to risk."  
  
"True," Bulma agreed, weaving through the dense grove of palm trees that made up most of that side of the island  
  
They emerged from the group of trees and the three humans stopped their game of volleyball to wait for them.   
  
Master Roshi grinned, a sure sign of trouble. "Well, you two young 'uns sure took long enough to get here. Don't tell me that somebody's been losing their innocence on MY island!"  
  
"You guessed it-- we were engaged in a bit of hot sex on your kitchen table," Bulma retorted, shooting him a dirty look. "Actually, I came over on account of something my son said to me this morning."  
  
Yamcha and Krillen exchanged worried glances and seemed to shrink back behind Master Roshi a little bit. Vejita noticed and smirked maliciously, itching to open his mouth and threaten somebody.   
  
"Oh?" Roshi acknowledged, looking more than little uncomfortable in the presence of both Bulma and Vejita. "And what did the little rascal say?"  
  
"A lot of things," Bulma responded vaguely, enjoying having the upper hand in the conversation so early on.   
  
Vejita, however, was eager to get to the point. He rushed over to Master Roshi before anyone noticed and gripped his throat, lifting him about a foot off of the ground so that he could look the old man directly in the eyes. "You know what you said, you fucking moron!"  
  
Bulma rolled her eyes at his predictable hot temper, but let him to take over. It was good to allow him to get his anger out sometimes, and this was the most harmless and helpful way she could think of. Besides, an angry Super-Saiyan was almost always more intimidating than, well, HER.  
  
"Fine!" Master Roshi squealed hoarsely, struggling to free himself from Vejita's iron grip. "I'll admit it! I did say it, I said it ALL! But I wasn't alone! Those two bastards were talking, too!"  
  
Vejita smirked and dropped him back onto the warm sand. "Do you two have anything else to add?"  
  
Krillen wasn't about to risk himself. "I admit it! Bulma, you aren't a slut, you're-- you're... a goddess! A living, breathing GODDESS!"  
  
Bulma had to smile at that. "You know, I was under that impression myself..."  
  
Yamcha crossed his arms stubbornly. "I'm sticking to everything that I said before, and Vejita can't beat a lie out of ME."  
  
"Oh, really?" Vejita challenged, taking a step towards the weaker human. "We'll have to see about that--"  
  
Bulma stopped him with a hand on his arm. "We don't need any fighting at the moment." Yamcha offered a somewhat flirtaceous smile at her, and she frowned in return. "Besides, if anybody's going to attack him, its going to be me."  
  
"Why can't we all just...get along?" Krillen suggested bashfully. "We could you know, start a game of volleyball or something." At the doubtful look on Vejita's face, his cheeks reddened and he looked down at his sandaled feet. "Or not."  
  
"No thanks." Bulma smiled apologetically and walked over to where Trunks was splashing around happily. Checking to make sure that the sand was smooth, she positioned herself on her stomach and sighed, enjoying the feeling of the warm afternoon sun on her somewhat less-than-tan back. "Stay close to shore, Trunks."  
  
Vejita, who had grudgingly decided to participate in a game of volleyball, noticed Yamcha watching Bulma intensely and chucked the heavy ball at his head. "Watch it, weakling."  
  
"Ass," Yamcha muttered under his breath as he turned his attention back to the game. "Alright you bastard, lets see who's gonna dominate THIS game..." He tossed the ball up and served it straight at Vejita, who had time to roll his eyes and yawn before hitting it back without any trouble.  
  
"Now come on, boys," Master Roshi scolded teasingly. "The girl isn't even paying attention to the game, so there's no need to show off."  
  
"I'm not showing off!" Yamcha protested, throwing up his hands. "Its not my fault that Vejita's being an asshole about it!"  
  
One of Bulma's eyes opened lazily, taking in the scene, and then closed again. "Get off your high horse, Yamcha. I'm not your girl anymore, and its more than likely that I never will again."  
  
Vejita grinned smugly and shrugged. "Well that sucks."  
  
Yamcha went red in the face and threw the ball into the net in a fit of anger. "This is stupid! I'm going into the house!"  
  
"Oh, come on Yamcha!" Vejita called after him sarcastically. "The game just won't be the same without you!"  
  
Yamcha gave him the finger before disappearing into the house and slamming the door behind him.   
  
"Aw, shit," Roshi exclaimed. "That means that we've lost-- again!"  
  
"Tough luck, old man," Vejita retorted. Instead of starting another game, he crossed the sand over to where Bulma was lounging. She had switched sides and was now lying on her back with her hands folded behind her head for support. Vejita checked the position of the sun and blocked its rays from reaching her skin, pretending to be watching Trunks play in the water.  
  
"Not funny," Bulma snapped, not bothering to open her eyes and look up at him. "Get out of the way, or else we'll be here that much longer. My tan has to be even."  
  
Vejita shuddered at the thought of spending ALL DAY with the people he hated most and moved to the side, allowing the sun to shine on Bulma again. "Don't you think that you're tan enough, woman? Red isn't exactly your shade, if you know what I mean."  
  
Bulma's eyes snapped open as she sat up in panic. "I've got SUNBURN?!" she exclaimed, examining every available inch of her body.   
  
"No," Vejita responded coolly, brushing some sand off of himself. "I'm sick of hanging around here. Get up, we're going home."  
  
Bulma crossed her arms. "I don't think so! This is relaxing."  
  
"Don't make me--" Vejita's empty threat was cut short by Goku's sudden arrival. The happy-go-lucky man was dressed in impossibly bright orange board shorts and a shirt with a hideous Hawaiian print. Vejita actually winced upon seeing the outfit. Bulma smiled happily and rushed over to embrace her good friend.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked, adjusting her bathing suit absently, causing Master Roshi to edge just a little bit closer for a better view of her back end.   
  
"I felt all of you guys' ki's gathered here, so I figured that either something was wrong, or there was some sort of party going on," Goku explained with his friendly smile and a casual arm around Bulma's waist. Vejita noticed and crossed his arms, containing his anger. Every once and a while the edge of his mouth twitched, giving his state of mind away. Goku carefully removed his arm. "You guys don't mind, do you?"  
  
"Of course not, man," Krillen assured him. "Now this game can really get started."  
  
"I don't think so," Vejita corrected him, speaking for the first time. "This is a perfect place to spar. There aren't any innocent bystanders to distract Kakkarott from fighting."  
  
"Oh goody!" Goku exclaimed, causing Bulma to hide a laugh behind her hand. "Sorry Krillen-- you know me, always looking for a chance to fight." All of a sudden his face lit up. Vejita groaned. Nothing good ever came from Goku's ideas, at least not in his opinion. "Why don't you join us? I'm sure that we'll all get something out of it."  
  
"Only if we're counting coup," Vejita retorted. "I refuse to spar with such a pathetic, squirmy little weakling. It would be an insult to both of us." Taking a second look at Goku's ridiculous beach outfit, he reconsidered. "Well, to me anyway."  
  
Bulma slapped him on one of his biceps. "Don't be an ass!" She then touched his muscle again and raised her eyebrows. "Actually, Krillen, he might be right." The inflation of Vejita's ego went up almost visibly.   
  
"I understand," Krillen said, shuddering at the remembrance of Vejita's Super-Saiyan transformation. "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea in the first place..."  
  
"And you're surprised?" Vejita snorted. "It was Kakkarott's idea, what did you expect?"  
  
Just then Yamcha came out of the house, his expression thankfully a bit lighter. "What's he doing here?"  
  
"Me and Vejita are going to spar," Goku informed him. "You're welcome to join us, too."  
  
Yamcha shook his head. "Thanks but no thanks. I think that I'd prefer to keep all of my limbs today."  
  
Vejita smirked. "Damn, there goes all of MY fun. Come on Kakkarott, lets get this over with." Without saying good-bye, he was gone in a flash of blinding yellow light, quickly followed by Goku, who offered an apologetic smile to the remaining humans.  
  
Yamcha watched them fly out of sight, then approached Bulma cautiously. "Hey, why don't we take a walk?"  
  
Bulma narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What for?"  
  
"Don't worry," Yamcha assured her with a knowing smile. "I just want to talk to you. And now that Vejita's out of the way, I think that we can do that safely. You know, without me getting beat into a bloody pulp."  
  
Bulma had to smile at that. "You don't have to be so defensive around him all of the time, Yamcha. That's what makes him so edgy, you know."  
  
"I was under the impression that he was ALWAYS like that," Yamcha commented, leading her along the beach. "He hasn't been exactly civil to anyone ever since he landed on Earth. Well, with the exception of you." His eyes drifted over to where Trunks was making a sand castle, whistling something contentedly. "Or at least, I hope has been civil to you."  
  
Bulma glanced out over the ocean thoughtfully, but did not immediately answer. Yamcha frowned in concern and tried to get her to look him in the eyes. He was unsuccessful-- Bulma didn't even notice.  
  
"Hey," he said, waving a hand in front of her face. "Is he decent towards you?"  
  
Bulma's eyes were hard and difficult to read. "Why do you care? Its really none of your business. We're through, remember?"  
  
"Yeah," Yamcha acknowledged. "But I would still like to be friends, despite well...him."  
  
"Thank you for your concern," Bulma answered softly. "But I don't need your sympathy."  
  
"Ouch," Yamcha snapped. "I'm sorry if my concern bothers you, Your Highness. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if you start going around claiming to be the 'almight PrincESS of all Saiyans' now."   
  
Bulma snorted. "That's not likely to happen anytime soon, I assure you."  
  
"That's because that bastard won't marry you," Yamcha accused, kicking at the sand angrily. "It makes me happy to see YOU happy, but this is getting ridiculous. How long are you two going to put it off? I mean, you have a CHILD, Bulma."  
  
"We don't NEED silly titles and documents saying that we're together," Bulma responded defensively.   
  
"Well, I suppose you're right," Yamcha said doubtfully. "Its amazing even to see Vejita acknowledging the fact that he might care about you. But still, Bulma, both he and I know that it would make you happy. I think that he should be willing to do anything and everything it takes to keep you content. Damn his pride."  
  
Bulma raised an eyebrow. "Thats a lot coming from the man who practically destroyed my life. The only reason that we even got together in the first place was our breaking up."  
  
Yamcha considered this for the first time. "I guess that's true." He glanced over at Bulma, who, in his opinion, only seemed to be growing more beautiful as she matured, and shook his head. "You know, after we broke up, I seriously considered asking you back out again. I have to admit that I still regret it, when I'm alone in my bed at night and I know that, well, I ASSUME that, you're with HIM."  
  
She grinned. "Hey, you did ask me out again, remember? That definitely made MY Christmas."  
  
"It was impulse, I swear!"  
  
"That's why you had time to pick out a cute little promise ring?" Bulma retorted lightly. "I was so angry at you."  
  
"I can't blame you," Yamcha agreed, a bit embarrassed now that he looked back on that time. "Especially considering the fact that you were PREGNANT that whole time... I'll be that Vejita was pissed."  
  
Bulma laughed. "Yeah, he was. It could have been worse, though-- much worse."  
  
"Has he ever taken his anger out on you?!" Yamcha demanded.   
  
"No, of course not," Bulma exclaimed. "He has too much pride in how much of an honorable Saiyan he is to do something like that. But you've seen him lose his temper before-- it isn't pretty."  
  
Yamcha shook his head. "I've been on the receiving end of his wrath quite a few times. Believe me, I know what you mean."  
  
Bulma smiled up at him, causing his heart to melt just like it used to. It hurt him to realize that she was Vejita's now, he admitted to himself. "Thank you for your thoughts... Our relationship hasn't been too great for the longest time."  
  
Yamcha grinned with friendly pleasure. "Yeah, it hasn't, has it?"  
  
Bulma, in a spurt of courageousness, looked him in the eye seriously. "Friends?" she asked, stopping and holding out her hand.  
  
Yamcha considered for a moment, looked off in the direction Vejita and Goku had flown, and shook her hand. His smile was friendly and warm. "Friends," he agreed.  
  
Bulma returned his smile and continued walking, allowing the cool water to lap at her feet gently.   
  
______________________________________________________________  
  
(A/N): See, I haven't abandoned this fic completely! Sorry about the slow update, I've been very busy lately, and I've actually planned out the rest of this fic and "Pitch Black", so things will be moving along faster from now on. Expect an update on Monday or Tuesday. Sound good? Great. Please remember to REVIEW!!  
  
HawaiianBabay@aol.com  
AIM Hawaiian Babay  
Rhapsody~*  
______________________________________________________________ 


	7. Chapter Five

...........................................................................................~* BROKEN HOME  
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*  
Bulma and Vejita returned home late that night, both exhausted from the day's beach activities. Trunks had, much to Vejita's displeasure, returned home with Goku to play and spar with Gohan, who was getting to be quite fond of the little boy's company. Bulma could hardly blame the poor kid-- Chichi was the only company he had. That was enough to make any kid desperate.  
  
Bulma tossed aside her beach bag of belongings upon entering the door and, judging by the darkness and silence of the mansion, assuming that her parents were not home. She turned to Vejita with a mischevious smile. "Looks like we're all alone tonight..."  
  
The Saiyan Prince smirked in return, even as he brushed past the shocked Bulma on his way to the kitchen.  
  
"Well then," Bulma called after him in a hurt voice. "Rejected." She kicked off her sandals and followed Vejita into the kitchen, where he was, no surprisingly, digging around in the refrigerator. "I see-- it must take an awful lot of energy to kick Goku's ass."  
  
"Not nearly as much as you might think," Vejita retorted, moving away from the refrigerator with empty hands. "Even if it did, we don't have shit to eat here anyway. Your mother is getting old and senile-- she's worthless."  
  
Bulma rolled her eyes and took a seat at the familiar counter. "Do you realize that nearly all of our encounters have taken place in the kitchen, at this counter?" She sighed and picked at her nails absently. "Thats a little pathetic, isn't it?"  
  
"What's gotten you into such an observant mood?" Vejita proceeded to search the cabinets, and it looked as if he was having similar luck. Finally he pulled out a beer, staring down at the offensive drink in disgust, and crossed his arms. "Did your little conversation with Yamcha trigger fond memories?" His tone was low and dangerous. Bulma sensed an argument coming on and winced.  
  
"Where did THAT comment come from?" she asked cautiously, making sure that she maintained good eye contact with Vejita. She knew from long experience that above all, the cocky Saiyan respected the truth.   
  
"I could sense your ki's separate from the others, together." Vejita's expression grew serious, and he having no apparent problem looking her in the eye, as she was him. "Did you think that I wouldn't sense something like that?"  
  
"You're acting like I should be confessing something," Bulma said, trying to keep a cool head. "Nothing happened, Vejita, you know that. We just talked."  
  
"Talked," Vejita repeated. "What could you possibly have to discuss?"  
  
"HE sought ME out," Bulma pointed out. "He wanted to resolve our past problems. He wants to be my friend again. We've been friends since we were what, fourteen years old?!"  
  
Vejita scowled, and the little hairs on the back of Bulma's neck rose along with his ki. "Did that little bastard not understand what I meant when I told him not to mess with what's mine?!"  
  
"Yours?" Bulma repeated doubtfully. "Technically, Vejita, I'm fair game."  
  
"And what is THAT supposed to mean?" Vejita demanded.  
  
"You have no legal claim over me nor Trunks," Bulma explained. This issue had been brought up before, but for the first time since Trunks' birth, she felt confident enough to resolve the matter once and for all. "Legally, I'm a single mother, free to date whoever I want."  
  
"Don't throw this back in my face, woman," Vejita grumbled, twisting the metal cap off of his beer and crushing it in his fingers like Play-doh. "Human formalities mean nothing to me."  
  
Bulma crossed her arms. "But they mean something to ME, Vejita! I'm not exactly content with the fact that you have no desire to marry me!" Too shaken up to wait for a response, she jumped out of her chair and started to exit the kitchen, but then paused in mid-step. "We're getting too old for this." She turned back around to face the angry Vejita, her blue eyes blazing. "Nobody's going to run away tonight-- not even me."  
  
Vejita's movements were quick and jerky, a clear sign that he was mad. "Don't assume things that you know aren't true, woman. I'm sick of your brainless accusations."  
  
"Brainless accusations?" Bulma exclaimed incredulously. "Its true, isn't it? If you really wanted to be committed to me, then I would have a fucking RING on my finger or at LEAST a promise from you!"  
  
"Only humans need sentimental shit like that," Vejita spat. "I sure as hell don't!"  
  
"Vejita, I'm not a Saiyan. I never will be. I'm HUMAN. On this planet, an unmarried woman who has a child is looked down on as-- as TRASH!" Bulma stomped her foot in childish frustration. "You and I both know that Trunks deserves better than that."  
  
Vejita narrowed his eyes. "Better than that? Perhaps the brat would feel better about himself if he had a mother who knew what the hell she was doing!"  
  
Bulma was rendered speechless at this cruel comment. She soon found herself fighting back stinging tears. "Vejita, that was...that was HORRIBLE." When he moved to explain himself and perhaps do some damage control, she waved him away and fell back into her chair at the counter, her blue eyes wide with shock and hurt. "I can't believe that you said that."  
  
"Kami, woman, you know that I didn't--"  
  
"No, I don't know," Bulma insisted. "You're right. Oh Kami, you're right..." She wrapped her arms around herself protectively. "I'm a shitty mother, and you know it. Would you believe that sometimes, I HATE Trunks? I just want to-- to... wrap my hands around his little throat and KILL him sometimes!" Her fingers twitched as if resisting the urge to do just that. "Is that a bad thing? Because it happens so often..."  
  
Vejita leaned back against the kitchen sink, uncertain of what to do or say. "I wouldn't know. My parents were never around."  
  
Bulma looked up and met his black eyes with her own. "And just think, YOU'RE the better parent! My parents have been around me, supporting me, my entire life, and look at how I turned out! Who would have thought that you, the bloodthirsty... VEJITA, would become the better parent?"  
  
"I knew that it would happen," Vejita pointed out in an effort to make her feel better.   
  
In an odd way, Vejita's form of consolation worked quite well on Bulma. Temporarily, anyway. She smiled through her tears. "Only you would make an arrogant comment like that at a time like this."  
  
"At a time like this..." Vejita's eyes widened with realization. "Hold on for one damned minute! Are you making an attempt to have one of your damned heart-to-heart talks or whatever the hell you women call them?!" He took his beer and smashed it against the kitchen wall, his ki flaring up in a burst of blindingly blue light. Bulma desperately wished that she had some idea of what was going on in his head at the moment, but she had no such luck. "Dammit! I do NOT want to be dictated by ridiculous human expectations!"  
  
Bulma slid off of her chair. "Listen to me, Vejita, don't lose control over yourself just because of--"  
  
Vejita looked as if he was wishing for another beer to smash. His eyes smoldered with unbridled rage. "Don't try to push me around, just like everyone else on this shithole of a planet! I can fucking control myself!"  
  
Bulma began backing away from him slowly. "Fine then. You work on that..." She locked wide-eyes with him for a moment more before turning and retreating, heading for the front hall. For the door.  
Trunks sighed as Chichi sped along the twisty-turny country roads that would eventually turn into the highway that would take him back home. Back home to his parents fighting, or ignoring each other, or sometimes even worse-- making out. Trunks crinkled his little nose in disgust and glanced out the window, wishing that Gohan hadn't come down sick so he could have spent the night. Since he hadn't started real school yet, he didn't really have many friends to play with.  
  
"Are we there yet?" he asked impatiently from his place in the backseat. "I'm tired."  
  
Chichi grimaced and gripped the steering wheel tighter. "No, we aren't! You are just like your father, Trunks, just like Vejita. Honestly, hasn't Bulma taught you any manners?"  
  
"No," Trunks grumbled, but it was too quiet for Chichi to hear. It wasn't as if she cared anyway. She was grumbling to herself about households these days and blah blah blah... Trunks tuned her out. Then, with a devilish smirk that WAS exactly like his father's, "Are we there now? Now? How about now?"  
  
Chichi let loose a loud cry of frustration. Trunks laughed hysterically.  
Bulma hastily slid on her flip-flops, grabbed Vejita's leather coat, and hurried out of the door, ignoring his shouts of protest. She held back the tears as long as she could, but before she made it to the driveway they spilled over, betraying her inner feelings of despair. She hopped into the first available car-- the red convertable that Vejita loved so much (Kami, she couldn't get away from reminders of him!) and sped out of the driveway. She did not notice Chichi's car pull into the driveway just as she was speeding away, nor did she hear Trunks shouting out of the window of the woman's car.  
  
"Human sentimental shit my ass," she growled, pressing down on the gas pedal even harder. The speedometer reached levels up to 90 mph, but she hardly noticed. All she thought about was getting to the Shore Road, where she could be alone. Well, if you didn't count the ocean.  
  
The public beach was deserted due to the oncoming nightfall, much to Bulma's relief. She parked the convertable right on the sand and jumped out, headed straight for the surf. The ocean reminded her sometimes of Vejita-- sometimes cool and calm, yet also volatile and unpredictable, ready to jump up and bite you in the ass when you were least expecting it. Speaking of unpredictability, right when Bulma approached the water, the waves leaped up and soaked her straight down to the bone. She shook her head and twisted her nose ring absently. It was alright if she smelled like salt and seaweed-- it wasn't as if she would be sharing a bed with anyone anytime soon.  
  
The sun finally set, and Bulma was cast into darkness. She didn't mind, though, she was used to darkness. She thought back to the night when Yamcha had dumped her forlornly. She had walked all the way home in stiletto heels, in the RAIN, that night, and she had lived. It seemed that she was destined to run away from all of the men in her life. Alone. She only thought of Trunks briefly-- her mind was still reeling over the recent argument. The kid was as strong and bull-headed as his father. He would be fine.  
  
She plopped right down in the sand, ignoring the lapping waves that threatened to pull her out to sea. Where would she go? She couldn't go back to her house, that was for sure, but it wasn't as if she had many other places to go. Then, she thought of somewhere-- Vejita would have a fit if he knew, but it wasn't as if they were MARRIED or anything. She sat in the wet sand for a few more minutes, collecting her thoughts, and then stood and brushed herself off. When she jumped back into the convertable, all thoughts focused on the one place she had to go.  
  
Yamcha's house.  
Trunks came running into the house, his little face clearly showing concern. He had seen his mother speeding away in his dad's convertable, and when his mom went that fast, you knew that something was wrong. He called for his father, but he got no response. He finally found him in the living room, sitting on the couch and staring at the wall. His face was blank, and his eyes revealed nothing.  
  
"Daddy?" Trunks called, approaching him slowly. "Where's Mommy going? Is she going to get some food? Because we ran out of Goldfish--"  
  
"She's not going to get any damned food, boy!" Vejita exclaimed. "Stop running your mouth. Your mother just went away for a while."  
  
"I don't believe you!" Trunks shouted indignantly, displaying some of his father's infamous temper. "She went away, probably forever! I hate you BOTH!" The child turned and stomped his way up to his room, where he slammed his door and turned on his TV.  
  
Vejita rolled his eyes, thinking the small tantrum to be nothing more than an attempt to get attention. He lowered his head into his hands again and massaged his throbbing temples, trying to make his oncoming migraine go away. It wasn't unlike Bulma to run away, but he had been under the (foolish) impression that she had started to grow up and get over it. Apparently he had been wrong. It would not be the last time. For lack of anything else to do, Vejita got up and started pacing the room. He had to think of what to do-- if Mrs. Briefs came home and discovered what had happened, she would make a huge fuss and only add to his headache, and that was the LAST thing he wanted at the moment. Whatever he decided to do, it had to be fast and effiecient. And, in Vejita's mind anyway, if you wanted something done right then you would have to do it yourself.  
  
The frustrated Saiyan grabbed a coat (Bulma would be pleased to see that he had done so; she was always trying to get him to dress for the weather.) and stepped out the door, almost certain that Trunks would be fine by himself. The boy was HIS son, after all. He ignored the heavy rain that was falling around him. He noticed his favorite car missing and scowled. He would settle for nothing less-- it looked as if he were going to have to fly. He hated flying in the rain.  
  
"This had better be worth it," he grumbled to himself. "The brat is going to owe me for bringing his idiot mother home..."  
  
Vejita powered up and took flight.  
Back at Capsule Corps., Trunks waited on his small balcony, watching his father leave in a flash of golden light. So he had been right-- his mother had run off. She had threatened to do it a couple times when she didn't think that he was listening, but the thought that she might actually try to pull it off had never crossed his mind. Until he had seen the red convertible speeding away, that is.  
  
Trunks turned and sprinted out of his room and down the stairs. He skidded to a halt in the hallway and began searching for his tennis shoes-- he would never forgive his father for not teaching him how to fly yet --and upon finding them began the struggle to tie them by himself. His mother had always (more than often reluctantly) been there to assist him, so he had rarely done it by himself, but he managed. He didn't think to grab a coat as his father had, being a child and all that. He instead walked right out the door and began walking in the direction of the ocean, where somehow he knew his mother had gone.  
Bulma was careful pulling into Yamcha's driveway-- she didn't want him to be aware of her presence just yet. She had to get herself together before she started screaming in frustration. She ignored the rain that formed puddles on the leather interior of the car and allowed herself a moment to collect her thoughts.  
  
She had always known-- in the back of her mind, anyway --that Vejita didn't want to marry her. He was a man of honor, and if his intentions had been such then he would have asked her a long time ago, back when her pregnancy was first discovered. Even Vejita had a simple understanding of how being a single mother affected such a young woman's reputation. But he had left her just that for years now, apparently without a second thought or even a single regret. Bulma's hands clenched into fists at the thought. Let Vejita see how much fun being a single parent really is.  
  
"Bulma?" Yamcha called. When she had been engaged in thought, he had stepped out onto his sheltered doorstep. So much for him not noticing her yet. "Is that you?"  
  
Bulma wiped some soaking wet hair out of her face and grimaced as she stepped out of the car. The interior would never be the same after this little fiasco. "Yes, its me. Do you mind?" She was gladder than ever that they had made peace earlier, even if it had made the argument that much worse.  
  
Though he looked a bit confused, Yamcha nodded and followed her inside. The familiar surroundings caused Bulma's heart to race as she relived the last night she had spent here. "I see that you uh, fixed your window. Sorry about that."  
  
"Yeah." Yamcha grinned. "So what's up? Should I be expecting Vejita to come and break my neck in a couple minutes?"  
  
Bulma normally would have laughed, but he might do just that, so she merely faked a smile. "Well, not for a few minutes at least. I actually feel like an ass right now..." She started backing away towards the door. "I should just... go somewhere else..."  
  
Yamcha grabbed her arm, concern clear in his brown eyes. He knew Bulma far too well. "What happened? Did that bastard HIT you? And where's Trunks?"  
  
"He's at Goku's, and no, Vejita's never hit me," Bulma answered. "This is going to sound really stupid, but we had an argument."  
  
"An argument," Yamcha repeated. "I have the impression that that's a common thing. Why is this one any different?"  
  
"There is no resolution to this one," Bulma said. "Unless Vejita gets a sudden change of heart, and that's not very likely." She noticed the growing puddle beneath her feet and winced. "Um, maybe I should dry off."  
  
Yamcha nodded, intrigued in spite of himself. "That might be a good idea. Follow me."  
  
Bulma glanced out the window, searching for a tell-tale glow of ki, then followed Yamcha deeper into his apartment.  
  
__________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
(A/N): I actually updated this fic, can you believe it?! This one was kind of short, but that's all that I want to put in for now. I don't think that this fic is going to be quite as long as 'Little Black Dress' was. Its going to be more like ten chapters or so, plus an epilogue. And for all you 'Pitch Black' people, I just learned that there is going to be a sequel, possibly even THREE sequels, called 'The Chronicles of Riddick', and they're all going to center around none other than Vin Diesel's character, Riddick, obviously! I'm so happy! The release date for the first one is June 26, 2004 or somewhere around there. Who knows, maybe I'll write a few sequels...?? These ones are going to be higher-budget, better-made movies, so that's definitely going to be a must-see for me. Anyway, all reviews will be greatly appreciated, as always. Ja ne!  
  
Rhapsody~*  
HawaiianBabay@aol.com  
AIM Hawaiian Babay  
  
__________________________________________________________________________________________ 


	8. Chapter Six

...........................................................................................~* BROKEN HOME  
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*  
Yamcha watched Bulma out of the corners of his eyes as she moved around his kitchen like she lived there, preparing food for them. Things should have always been this way, he told himself. This is how things should have turned out. For once, he was grateful for Vejita's hot temper and harsh accusations-- if he were a decent person then Bulma would never have come here. He smiled to himself wistfully. He had been missing her for years now, and it seemed that it was finally his time to shine in Kami's eyes.  
  
"What are you staring at?" Bulma asked, pausing in her food preparations. "Yamcha?"  
  
Yamcha broke out of his daze and offered a warm smile. "Nothing-- just spacing out. I can't believe that you came HERE, of all places..."  
  
Bulma opened her mouth as if to speak, closed it, then looked down at her feet uncertainly. "I- I really didn't have anywhere else to go. Goku's house will be the first place Vejita checks, if he actually does make an effort. And the Kami House will be second. He would never think that I would come here-- that would involve getting past his enormous ego." She shoved a knife into the loaf of bread she was slicing violently. Yamcha jumped and began to feel more than a little uncomfortable.  
  
"That's true..."  
  
"Of course it is," Bulma said smugly. "I haven't lived with the man for so long and gotten nothing out of it. I know exactly how that jackass operates by now!"  
  
"Um, sure." Yamcha didn't truly think that anyone within their group of friends could really understand how Vejita thought, since he was a serial killer and all that, but if there was anyone that could, it was Bulma. Which further pushed the question-- why the hell WOULDN'T Vejita want to marry her? She was a catch, even by universal standards. The 'princess of planet Earth', you might say. "If you don't mind my asking-- what was his reason for not wanting to uh, tie the knot?"  
  
Bulma dropped the knife, gave up, and turned sorrowful eyes to her ex-boyfriend. "I don't know." She looked pretty close to tears, Yamcha noticed with dismay. What could he say to a response like that? "Maybe its like what you've always said. Maybe he just wanted sex."  
  
Yamcha couldn't help himself. "And he got it, right?"  
  
"Of course," Bulma answered matter-of-factly, though her tone was bitter. "Or else Trunks wouldn't be here, would he?"  
  
"I meant BESIDES that, B-chan."  
  
"Don't call me that," Bulma protested quietly. "You haven't called me that since--"  
  
"Since I cast you out onto the cold, rainy streets that one night," Yamcha finished for her. The idea of Bulma and Vejita having any sort of a sexual relationship made him surprisingly angry. "And hey, I'm sorry, but what's done is done. None of us can change it."  
  
Bulma leaned against the kitchen sink, her eyes clouded over with memory. "No, we can't..."  
Trunks looked all the way up and down the beach, but his mother was nowhere to be found. Even when his father blazed by in a flash of angry golden light, he remained hidden beneath the meager shelter that a rickety picnic bench offered. Even if his mother were not here, he would much rather stay here, alone, then face his happy-go-lucky grandmother, who would either pretend that nothing had happened or curse and blather on about how irresponsible Bulma was and how Vejita was keeping the small family afloat, would you believe that? Trunks didn't entirely understand, having not been alive to witness the drama that had come with his parents' controversial relationship, but he got the gist of it. After all, you didn't see Goku and Chichi fighting and running out on each other all the time.  
  
"Its stupid," he growled to nobody in particular. "Its just plain stupid!"  
  
The rain started coming down harder, thoroughly soaking his clothes and sending a chill through his little, vulnerable body. Trunks stubbornly raised what little ki he had and flicked his tail back and forth irritably as he strolled down the beach, picking up any interesting shells he found along the way.   
  
"Damn them both!" The sound of the swear word rolled nicely off his Saiyan tongue, as it had his father's so many times. Swearing felt good, and Trunks was glad that nobody was here to tell on him. His mother would scream at him good if she could hear. "Damn, damn, damn!"  
  
He took the small handful of shells he had picked up and tossed them into the churning ocean. The waves kept on threatening to pull him back out to sea with them, and it was getting a little bit scary. He adjusted his course so that he would not be swept out into the water and pressed on, headed for a clump of palm trees that loomed ahead of him. He was getting a little tired, and that looked like as good a place as any to rest for a minute. He plopped down onto the damp sand, thankful for a moment off his feet. He had walked nearly a mile and a half to get here, and that was a long distance for little legs like his to travel. He had been sitting there, bored out of his mind, for almost a half-hour, shivering and still damp, when he finally succumed to sleep.  
  
Trunks dreamt of an important wedding that he could not attend.  
Vejita hated to do it, but it seemed like it was his only option. Bulma was nowhere to be found. She was either very near water (damn the stuff for drowning out ki) or in the city someplace, blended in with all of the other weak human ki's. In most situations he would have been able to find her, but for some reason he was having trouble. Something was itching at the back of his mind, like it was trying to make itself known but didn't have the means to. Going to Goku's for help was the last thing that Vejita felt like doing at the moment, but for all he knew, the woman had retreated into the open arms of Yamcha the Bastard, and if that was the case... well, it wouldn't be pretty.  
  
Goku was waiting for him when he arrived, having felt both the alarming increase in his ki and Vejita's rapid movement. His face clearly expressed worry. Even Goku wasn't stupid enough to make light of such a serious situation. But, as it turned out, Goku knew something that Vejita didn't.  
  
"What happened?" he asked eagerly when Vejita touched down. "Where are Bulma and Trunks?"  
  
"Trunks?" Vejita immediately tried to find his ki, and found it missing also. "Dammit!"  
  
"She didn't..." Goku trailed off, knowing that this was case by the look on Vejita's face. "She did. I'm guessing that she took Trunks, too. What happened?"  
  
Vejita scowled. "She didn't take the brat, I left him at home, pouting. He took off on his own. And its none of your business."  
  
Goku understood Vejita's situation almost perfectly. "So there was an argument. Over what, if you don't mind my asking?" Chichi stepped out onto the porch beside her husband, wearing an apron and holding a spoon covered in spaghetti sauce. He motioned for her to be quiet.  
  
"Also none of your business," Vejita snapped, his eyes moving over to Chichi. She returned his glare.  
  
Goku scratched the back of his head. "Well, if you aren't going to tell me anything, then I don't think that I'm going to be able to help you. You see, where Bulma would run depends on what kind of mood she's in. I'm really sorry, Vejita..."  
  
His fellow Saiyan's face twisted into an expression of extreme irritation, but it didn't seem to have an effect on Goku. "She was bothering me about that ridiculous human tradition again!"  
  
"Marriage? I would hardly call that a silly tradition." Chichi shook her head. "I can hardly blame her. This is all your fault! If you would just suck up your stupid pride then--"  
  
Goku interuppted her wisely. "I don't think that she would to go Yamcha..."  
  
"She would," Vejita corrected him bitterly. "The bastard pulled her aside earlier and fed her some shit about being 'friends' again."  
  
"So that's why you were distracted!"  
  
"Distracted? I kicked your ass, Kakkarott!"  
  
Goku shook his head. "Yes, but you weren't as aggressive as usual. I guessed that something was wrong. But anyway-- I know where Yamcha's appartment is."  
  
"I think that you're all silly to be worrying about Bulma," Chichi exclaimed. "Trunks is somewhere wandering around, alone and unprotected. Honestly, Vejita, what's wrong with you?!"  
  
"I know that the brat can take care of himself, that's what!" Vejita exclaimed angrily. If Chichi weren't a woman and Goku's wife he would have attacked her, but luckily that was not the case. "I don't recall asking for your opinion."  
  
"She's right, Vejita," Goku agreed a bit sheepishly. "If Bulma is at Yamcha's, then she's okay. But Trunks..." He shook his head. "Who knows where he is?"  
  
Vejita did feel concern for his son, but it was Bulma that came first and foremost in his mind. He would never had admitted it, but losing her was one of his greatest fears, and there weren't many. Now, the thought of losing her to YAMCHA... that was something that he absolutely could not allow to happen. He briefly considered going off without Goku, but thought the better of it. Trunks didn't even know how to fly yet, after all.   
  
"Fine," he consented. "Have any bright ideas?"  
  
Goku thought for a moment. "Well, looking for his ki would be the best thing to do. You're more sensitive to him then I am-- can you feel anything?"  
  
"Obviously not." Vejita crossed his arms. "I wouldn't have asked your opinion if I knew were the kid was!"  
  
Goku laughed. "Oh yeah! Maybe if we combine our power we'll be able to feel something--"  
  
"I am not fusing with you!" Vejita said adamantly. "I have no desire to be fused with the universe's most notorious idiot."  
  
"All right then," Goku said a bit uncertainly. "We won't fuse."  
  
"If I can't feel his ki, then he's probably near the ocean."  
  
Chichi covered her mouth with her hand. "Or dead..."  
  
Vejita turned smoldering black eyes to her, but otherwise did not comment. The possibility had never crossed his mind. His son could not be dead. He was sure of it. Trunks had probably figured out the situation and taken off in a fit of anger. It seemed like something the kid would do. It sounded like something he himself would have done at Trunks' age. He massaged his throbbing temples and sighed.  
  
"Thanks for your cheerful insight," he snapped. "Come on, Kakkarott-- I want to be home in time to get some sleep."  
Bulma was sipping half-heartedly at a can of pop when Yamcha, who had been watching television, jumped out of his seat in alarm.   
  
"What is it?" she asked, getting to her feet also. "What's going on?"  
  
Yamcha's brown eyes were wide. "Vejita and Goku-- they're headed this way, and Vejita's ki is way up there. Maybe even Super Saiyan. Oh Kami, oh Kami, he's gonna pound me..." He began pacing back and forth nervously, muttering to himself.  
  
"Calm down," Bulma advised him. She moved to the window, trying to get a glimpse of tell-tale golden light. "I wonder why Goku's with him? Vejita wouldn't go to him unless something serious was happening. I hope that Trunks is alright."  
  
Yamcha suddenly stopped his pacing and sighed in relief. "They've turned away, towards the ocean I think. Maybe your ki is blending with the rest of the humans' and they can't sense you."  
  
"I hope that that's the case," Bulma said softly. "I just can't believe that he's actually making an effort to resolve this. Its definitely not what I expected him to do."  
  
"Yeah well, Vejita isn't exactly a predictable guy," Yamcha commented dryly.   
  
"You'd be surprised." Bulma moved away from the window and sat down again, her eyes focused on the television. "Hopefully he'll surprise me and give up."  
  
Yamcha nodded. "Hopefully."  
  
They both knew that this wouldn't happen, but nothing more was said.  
  
__________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
(A/N): I'm so glad that I'm able to update this at a steady rate now! I wish that I could say the same for 'Pitch Black'... I'm not having writer's block, but I'm having some trouble getting everything out the way I would like to. Ughhh... I've been extremely busy lately, so that accounts for the delay also. But never fear, they'll be an update soon. There's been a disappointing lack of response to this fic so far (-_-;;), so please remember to REVIEW!!!!!  
  
Rhapsody~*  
HawaiianBabay@aol.com  
AIM Hawaiian Babay  
  
__________________________________________________________________________________________ 


	9. Chapter Seven

...........................................................................................~* BROKEN HOME  
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*  
Trunks rolled over onto his back in the sand, staring up at the gray, rainy sky with eyes that were dull with boredom. He had been laying out here for Kami knew how long, and no sign of either his father or his mother. But that wasn't going to stop him-- no way! Trunks was going to outlast them this time, he was no coward. If he could just hold on for a few more minutes, then maybe his dad would move up his flying lessons. After all, if he, a small child, could survive alone for so long, then he was definitely strong enough to do something so simple as flying.  
  
So Trunks kept on telling himself that, over and over, until the reassurances ran together and soon faded from his mind. All that he could concentrate on was the cold. And the wet. And the incoming storm that rose the little hairs on the back of his neck.  
  
"Its gettin' hot in here..." he sang under his breath. It was one of the only 'grown-up songs' he knew, and this was only because he had watched his mother dance around the living room to the song a while back, during one of the rare times where they had all been happy. The song suddenly struck him as quite funny-- it even brought a smile to his blue lips. "So take off all of them clothes..." The kid would have found it a whole lot funnier if he had known that he was getting the words wrong.  
  
Suddenly, on the edge of his consciousness, Trunks picked up on the risen ki's of his father and who felt like Goku. The kid made an unsuccessful attempt to sit up in surprise. His cold, stiff muscles protested the movement and eventually Trunks gave up. It looked like he didn't have much longer to wait. Surely the combined forces of Vejita and Goku could pick up his ki quickly. And the ki of his runaway mother.  
  
Trunks lay in the sand, shivering and wet, for ten more minutes before succumbing to the sleep that had been threatening to close his eyelids for some time now. Instead of dreaming of one particular, coherent thing, as he had before, his dreams consisted of random images and scenes that made little or no sense to the young demi-Saiyan.  
  
Bulma kneeling on a patch of grass, sobbing for all she was worth; Vejita powering up in a burst of blinding golden light; that same wedding he had dreamed of earlier; Goku running a nervous hand through his unkempt hair; even an image of himself, motionless-- sleeping, apparently.  
  
Trunks struggled to escape from this strange state of sleep, but was unable to regain consciousness.  
  
His parents clinging to each other, doing something that his young mind could not yet fathom; a younger Bulma yelling at Yamcha, who seemed to be offering her a ring; Vejita watching his mother don a black dress; Bulma holding a baby with a tail and smiling; a little boy waddling across the room towards Vejita, who was trying to hide a smile.  
  
The confused child managed to roll over before the darkness completely overtook him, and he was unable to escape. Even through this the images kept on coming, invading his mind.  
  
A coffin surrounded by blood red roses; Bulma hunched over a neat line of fine white powder; Vejita barely flinching as a tattoo artist plunged a needle repeatedly into the skin of his chest; Chi-chi awkwardly hugging Bulma; Goku, Yamcha, Krillen, and the rest of the crew eating together solemnly; snowflakes falling on the long hair of his mother, who was crouched in the snow...  
  
Trunks took a shallow, rasping breath, then stirred no more.  
Goku looked inconspicuously over at Vejita as they flew. The other man seemed to be all right, judging by his cool expression, but Goku knew better. Even with his drastically different Super Saiyan appearance, Vejita's turqouise eyes gave him away. They were stormy and dark, full of supressed anger and frustration. And maybe even a touch of... pain?  
  
"What do you think?" Goku called over.  
  
"About what?" Vejita snapped.   
  
"Can you feel anything? Any ki's?" Goku tried to sound somewhat cheerful, for Vejita's sake.   
  
"If I did, then we wouldn't be flying around in circles, would we?" Vejita shook his head and sped up, leaving Goku a short distance behind. "Baka Kakkarott..."  
  
Goku wisely chose not to say anything more. It was just pissing the other Saiyan off, obviously. He could practically feel the waves of intense anger coming off of Vejita. Not that he could blame him. They had all believed that Bulma had long since gotten over her unsteady stage. To have her run out now, at such a critical point in Trunks' life, and perhaps even in her relationship with Vejita, was unthinkable. Goku could hardly believe that she had done such a thing. Yet here they were, chasing blindly after her and her runaway son.   
  
They were above the city when Vejita suddenly stopped. Goku flew on for about a hundred feet before he was able to stop. He backtracked hurriedly, studying Vejita's tense face for clues as to what was going on.  
  
"What is it?" he asked eagerly. "What do you feel?"  
  
"She's at that bastard's house," Vejita growled. His ki grew blindingly bright as he fought to control his anger. "I knew that she would go running to that baka human!"  
  
"Don't do anything that you're going to regret later," Goku warned. Vejita's murderous intentions were quite clear. "Bulma's in pain, and it won't do her any good to see you blow up and kill somebody."  
  
"Fuck you." Vejita began gravitating down towards an appartment complex, his arms crossed.   
  
"I still think that we should find Trunks first!" Goku called down after him. "He's all alone out there!"  
  
Vejita stopped and glared malicously at Goku, who flinched visibly. "SHE'S alone in THERE, with HIM!" he roared. "If you have a problem with my actions, then why don't you come the hell down here and do something about it?!"  
  
Goku held up his hands meekly. "I'm not about to stop you, Vejita."  
  
Vejita shot him one last venomous look, then continued on his way down to Yamcha's appartment. Goku sighed helplessly and followed, praying to Kami that Bulma wasn't in a volatile mood.  
Bulma had fallen into an exhausted sleep on Yamcha's couch, her coffee mug still clutched in one hand. Yamcha watched her silently, his eyes glazed over in memory. Bulma looked so different than she had when they had been going out. He didn't know if this was a result of her strange relationship with Vejita, or her messy breakup with him, but it didn't make much a difference. She was beyond the point of help, and there was no turning back.  
  
She stirred slightly, and her tube top moved just enough to give Yamcha a glimpse of her fire engine red bikini top and the ivory skin beneath it. His eyes locked on her bare skin subconsciously, and he was grateful that Vejita wasn't here, or else he would be smeared across the floor for looking at her. Unable to resist, he got up and stood before the sleeping woman uncertainly. He reached out a hand to fix her top and--  
  
"Stop."  
  
Yamcha snatched back his hand and whirled around to see Vejita standing in front of his (broken) doorwall, scowling dangerously. His Super-Saiyan ki lit up the room in an eerie golden glow and illuminated Bulma's face. She still, miraculously, did not wake up.  
  
"Whoa, Vejita!" Yamcha held up his hands innocently. He trembled a bit-- he couldn't help it. "I wasn't going to do anything! I was just going to fix her shirt--"  
  
"I don't want to hear it, you little bitch." Vejita glared at him then stepped further into the room, moving his eyes to Bulma. Yamcha thought that he caught a glimpse of something approaching compassion in the Saiyan's turquoise eyes, but he couldn't be too sure. This was Vejita he was dealing with. "Leave, unless you feel like pain."  
  
Yamcha, who was bold enough to look Vejita briefly in the eye before leaving, took his advice and retreated to the kitchen, where he was out of sight but could still hear what was going on. He nodded to Goku when he stepped into the appartment through the hole Vejita had made. Goku took one look at Vejita, who was approaching Bulma quietly, then joined Yamcha in the kitchen.  
  
Bulma turned over as Vejita approached her, giving him a good view of her face. Even in sleep, her brows were furrowed in agitation, and her mouth was set in a thin, hard line. The Saiyan took a seat in front of the couch where she slept and frowned, trying to think of what to say.  
  
"Wake up, woman." When Bulma merely moved a bit, his frown deepened. "Wake up!"  
  
Bulma's eyelids fluttered, then opened slowly, taking in her surroundings, then Vejita. She made an effort to sit up, but was stopped by Vejita's hand. She took the hint and settled back onto the couch, confusion and anger evident on her face.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded. "Where's Yamcha? If you killed him, I'll--"  
  
"I didn't kill him," Vejita snapped. "If I had, there would be a great deal of blood decorating the walls."  
  
Bulma wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Thanks for that consolating visual." Then, as if catching herself in a mistake, she shook her head. "I'm still pissed off, you know! You are not going to get off the hook that easily!"  
  
"I could be at home sleeping right now." Vejita scowled and shook his head. "But instead I'm here, unnecessarily exposing myself to the two people I hate most-- Yamcha and Kakkarott. That alone should be enough to help you get over your ridiculous anger."  
  
"Ridiculous?" Bulma sat up defiantly, her blue eyes flashing. "My feelings are ridiculous now? Thanks."  
  
"Your emotions over this particular issue are!"  
  
Bulma narrowed her eyes at her Saiyan partner. "Don't start with me, you son of a bitc--"  
  
Vejita's ki flared out, temporarily blinding Bulma, who squealed in protest. "You are on thin ice here, woman!"  
  
"Stop trying to indimidate me!" Bulma exclaimed, shading her eyes against the harsh golden light. "I'm not one of your invading alien enemies! Your royal Super Saiyan self doesn't scare me!"  
  
Surprisingly, Vejita powered down, and his eyes and hair returned to their normal hues.  
  
Bulma brushed some hair out of her eyes and stretched a bit. "Why are you here, if you're still so mad? Why bother wasting your time with a weak human like me and my 'sentimental bullshit'? Why don't you just-- go off and TRAIN or something... Just leave me alone!"  
  
Vejita couldn't resist a slight smirk. "Just a few hours ago you wanted me to marry you, and now you want me to leave?"  
  
"Not funny!" Bulma made an attempt to shove him, but was unsuccessful. "Why are you here?!"  
  
"I have to look after what's mine," Vejita replied seriously. His eyes held a strange, foreign expression that Bulma had never before seen in him. Whatever it was, it kept her rooted to the spot.  
  
"What's yours?" Bulma repeated. "You have no claim over me. We've been over this already."  
  
"Don't be foolish," Vejita said. "You know better than that. You never needed any 'sentimental human bullshit' from me before, so why now?"  
  
Bulma hesitated to answer, though she held Vejita's gaze steadily. "It never mattered before. We were young... so young ... and it was hard enough to believe already. We have Trunks now, everything has changed."  
  
"Trunks is gone," Vejita told her quietly. "He left soon after you did. Kakkarott tried to force me to scour the city for the brat first, but..."  
  
Bulma smiled dryly. "But you felt me here, with YAMCHA, and you couldn't stop yourself. So predictable."  
  
"The boy is Saiyan," Vejita informed her. "He can take care of himself."  
  
"I may be a weakling human, but I can take care of myself."  
  
"That's bullshit and you know it." Vejita glanced at her glittering nose ring.   
  
Bulma's gaze softened when she realized what he was looking at. "Why can't I stay pissed at you?" Before she knew what she was doing, she was kissing him. A part of her hated herself for giving in so easily, but Vejita was about to remedy that. She had not lost the battle yet.  
  
He pulled away with that trademark smirk on his face. "If you allow me to take a swing or two at the bitch, then I suppose I'll consent to your wish..."  
  
"The bitch?" Bulma smiled in spite of herself. At times, the description perfectly suited Yamcha. "I suppose it suits him." Then, the full impact of Vejita's words sank in, and her smile was replaced by a look of disbelief. "You don't mean...?"  
  
Vejita grimaced as if the mere thought of marriage was painful. "Don't make me fucking say it."  
  
Bulma kissed him again contentedly, then met his eyes seriously. "I won't."  
  
Goku stuck his head out of the kitchen timidly. "Are we finished in there? Because, um, Trunks is still out there, alone..."  
  
Vejita fixated a nasty glare in Goku's direction, while Bulma smiled in welcome.   
  
"We're finished," she replied, getting up off the couch. Then, to Vejita, "We'll continue this conversation later."  
  
Vejita grumbled something offensive under his breath, then followed Bulma into the kitchen.  
  
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(A/N): Not too much longer to go! I'm thinking about three more chapters, then perhaps an epilogue...? I dunno, it depends. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Have you guys like, dropped off the planet or are you just too lazy to review? Seriously-- take a look at the amount of reviews for "Little Black Dress", then look at this story and the number of chapters. Pathetic, as my good friend Vejita would say. Ridiculous! But you know what? I'm not going to let it get to me so much this time around. I'm gonna finished this damned story whether you all read it or not! I WANT to complete it, and I'm NOT going to give in. I'm sick of yelling at everybody, so I'm going to leave it at that and hope for the best. I think that the next chapter will be out by the middle of week, if anybody is up to reading it... *Uncertain smile* Riiighhtt..... ja ne, and please please please remember to REVIEW! I won't bite... hard ... ^_~  
  
Rhapsody~*  
HawaiianBabay@aol.com  
AIM Hawaiian Babay  
  
_________________________________________________________________________________________ 


	10. Chapter Eight

...........................................................................................~* BROKEN HOME  
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*  
It was decided that everyone, including Bulma, was to join the search for Trunks. His ki was still undetectable to both Vejita and Goku, so they were to split up and scour every inch of the city and the surrounding areas. It was an unusually chilly summer night, so the kid couldn't have gone very far, since he was unable to fly. Just before they stepped out the door, Bulma gave voice to a thought that had been in the back of all their minds.  
  
"Do you suppose that..." Bulma trailed off for a moment, uncertain. "Trunks can feel your ki's and is hiding?"  
  
Yamcha shook his head. "Why would he do that? No normal kid would want to be all alone like that for such a long time."  
  
"He's not just any little kid," Bulma pointed out defensively. "He's the son of Vejita and I. That alone should tell you something about how 'normal' he is."  
  
"It was just a thought," Yamcha said, holding up his hands. "Sorry!"  
  
"Do you have any idea where he might go?" Goku asked gently. "It would help if we had some kind of search plan, don't you think?"  
  
"I don't know." Bulma glanced over at Vejita, who had been strangely quiet throughout the conversation, then concentrated harder. "He might have tried to follow me. If he did, then he was headed for the ocean."  
  
"He sure picked a nice night to go to the beach," Yamcha commented with a small laugh.   
  
"Do you ever just SHUT UP?!" Vejita demanded, looking close to explosion. "One more brainless comment out of you and I'll--"  
  
"Stop it, you two," Bulma warned with a glance out the window. "Trunks is out there somewhere-- I want to find him as soon as possible." She tied up her hair sloppily and crossed her arms. "Vejita, you're going to carry me. And none of your tricks!"  
  
Vejita rolled his eyes at her bossiness, but consented, and soon enough they were on their way to the shore. Goku was pretty much neck-and-neck to him, being NEARLY as powerful (Vejita would never admit his superiority, not even at a time like this) and Yamcha struggled behind them.   
  
"You might be thinking that you've been completely forgiven," Bulma said into Vejita's ear, tightening her grip around his neck. "But I haven't forgotten that easily. You are not going to have an easy time of this, let me tell you." At Vejita's surprised look, she mimicked his trademark smirk with one of her own. "Ha-- it sucks to be on the receiving end for once, doesn't it? I'm thinking... PINK for the theme... Yes, I've always wanted a nice, girly, floral-themed wedding."  
  
"I should drop you right now, woman."  
  
"Do it and I'm flying with Yamcha or Goku the rest of the way." Bulma smiled when Vejita settled for a nasty look and began scanning the ground below them again. They were on the outskirts of the city now, which was unusual, considering their normal flight speed. "Why are you guys flying so damned slow?"  
  
Vejita scowled. "Kakkarott is acommadating for Yamcha's lack of power. Its sweet, isn't it?"  
  
Bulma looked over Vejita's shoulder at Yamcha, who looked to be fighting a useless battle. "He'll never make it soon enough. Leave them behind, they'll catch up eventually."  
  
Vejita took her advice and sped up considerably. Bulma was terrified in spite of herself-- even at her worst, she never even DROVE this fast.   
  
"Scared?" Vejita asked mockingly. "I could always slow down. I know how humans are."  
  
"Fuck you," Bulma responded appropriately. "Just shut up and fly."  
  
Palm trees swayed in the cool breeze up ahead. Sensing her impatience, Vejita picked up the pace a bit and hurried towards them. Something was tickling at the edge of his awareness, and he was almost sure that it was Trunks. The ki was oddly weak, and flickering. That, above all things, worried the Saiyan. He was thankful that Bulma, who tended to overreact, could not sense ki's. It seemed that hours went by before they arrived at the beach and landed a bit awkwardly on the sand. Bulma tumbled off of Vejita's back, stumbling a bit, and scanned the area.   
  
"Looking around like that isn't going to do much considering that its dark outside," Vejita pointed out as he waited for Goku and Yamcha to land. "If you were a Saiyan you might be able to accomplish something, but unfortunately you have a weak human body."  
  
"You didn't think it so terrible when Trunks was conceived," Bulma snapped.  
  
"Feel anything?" Goku asked when he touched down. "I thought that I caught something, but its--"  
  
"Diminishing and weak," Vejita finished for him bitterly. "Let's get looking."  
  
Vejita and Goku headed off in one direction, leaving Bulma and Yamcha to go the other way. Bulma guessed that Vejita had to be pretty worried if he would leave her alone with the person he had very recently been about to kill because of his closeness to her. In a way, the small gesture made her feel a little better. Perhaps Vejita wasn't so impossible after all.   
  
"Its pointless to look in this direction," Yamcha complained, watching Goku and Vejita leave. "The ki is coming from THAT direction. This is just a ploy to get away from me, I know it..."  
  
Bulma shook her head. "Stop being so negative, Yamcha, its driving me crazy. I don't need that right now. My son is missing." She had started to walk in the other direction when Yamcha suddenly jerked as if he were about to have a seizure. "What is it?"  
  
Yamcha squinted off in the direction Goku and Vejita had gone, trying to make something out in the darkness. "I felt something-- I think that Vejita's ki just jumped a hell of a lot."  
  
"They must have found him!" Bulma started running in that direction, slowed a bit by the deep sand. She didn't stop running into she caught sight of Goku and Vejita standing in front of a cluster of palm trees, silent. "Hey! Did you find him?"  
  
She received no response. She stopped beside Goku, panting, unable to see through the inky blackness of the night. "Help me out here, guys, light yourselves up!"  
  
"Bulma--" Goku started quietly.  
  
"Don't 'Bulma' me!" the desperate girl exclaimed, starting to fear for the worse. "Power the fuck up, NOW!"  
  
She shaded her eyes as a pulsating blue light illuminated arond Goku and lit up the immediate area. When her eyes refocused, she wished that she had never asked him to do it.   
  
"Oh, Kami," she breathed. "No."  
  
Trunks was huddled in the sand, motionless. He looked so... cold. His thin, boyish lips were a dark shade of blue, and his face was pale and colorless. It looked as if he had been there for a little while, alone. When Bulma reached out to touch him, she found that his clothes were still wet. Goku and Vejita were silent behind her.  
  
"Trunks," she whispered hoarsely, pulling the little body into her lap. "Wake up, Mommy's here..." Hot tears began falling onto his still face. The pained expression he still wore broke her heart. "No..."  
  
Yamcha, who had just arrived, gasped in horror.  
  
Goku put a hand on Bulma's shoulder. "Bulma... maybe it would be best if you went home and got some sleep. We can take care--"  
  
"Take care of WHAT?!" Bulma screeched hysterically, brushing his hand away. "My son is DEAD, Goku!" She turned her back towards him once again, and her shoulders began to shake. "He's dead..." The girl finally gave in to uncontrollable, wracking sobs that shook her entire body. It was painful to watch-- Yamcha and Goku both averted their eyes to the sand, their eyes welling up with tears.  
  
Vejita, however, was absolutely numb. The fact that his girlfriend, mate, whatever she was to him was in inconsolable pain registered; his body just didn't react. He could have gone to her and uttered some comforting words, he supposed, but it wouldn't help. He was just as desperate as she was. But he would not shed a tear. Not after all he had been through, and not in front of Kakkarott and the weakling. Never. He hadn't cried when his father had shipped him off to Frieza, he wouldn't cry now... there was no way... The image of Trunks, his first and only son, the heir to the Saiyan throne, cold and lifeless in the arms of Bulma, struck him harder than anything he had ever seen. He had witnessed massacres more bloody than your worst nightmare without blinking, yet this pathetic picture that could be seen in any movie made him want to curl up and die. When Goku made a move towards him, he held up a hand, and the other man shrunk away like Vejita had actually hit him. For the first time, Goku looked a bit SCARED of him... But the price was too much to bear. Vejita began backing away from the tragic scene, his face expressionless, then paused.  
  
Bulma had all but collapsed in the sand with Trunks still in her grasp. She had turned so that he could get glimpsed of her face. It was twisted into an expression of hopelessness and sorrow that he had never seen the equal of, even when her father had passed. Even Vejita could not walk away from her. Not now. She was crying so hard that it was a wonder her small human body didn't break. Some small part of Vejita wanted to go to her and ease her pain, but he was unable to move. Trunks, their son, was dead. Gone. Forever.  
Bulma cried so hard that she thought she would die, but unfortunately, she didn't. She was still alive, stuck in this horrible situation with no escape. Trunks was dead, and all because of her. If she hadn't been so damned selfish and had decided to face her problems instead of running away, her son would still be at home, warm and safe. She buried her face in his tangled hair and suppressed the urge to scream. She had often wished that the motionless child in her arms would just go away, but never, not in a million years, had she ever even considered that that very thing was possible. Not like this.  
  
"I love you. I love you Trunks..."  
  
Her voice sounded so small and pathetic... after this, would she ever want to speak again? A fresh round of tears came round, and this time it was actually painful. Her sides and throat felt like they were being torn apart. She squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to stop the crying, but the tears kept on coming.   
  
"Bulma." Goku's voice sounded so far away... "Let go. We've got to get you inside..."  
  
Bulma's head suddenly felt very light, and her vision swam. He sounded so far away... so far...  
  
"Bulma..." It was Goku again. "Get up..."  
  
Bulma kissed her son one last time, and then fainted.  
She woke up hours later, on the couch in the den of Capsule Corps. There were faint voices all around her, but she couldn't see clearly quite yet...  
  
"Hey, she's awake!"  
  
A hand passed in front of her face, and Bulma blinked up at the concerned face of her mother. It looked as if the old woman had done her share of crying also-- her makeup was smeared and her eyes were red-rimmed. No woman deserved so much pain their lives... it was all her fault... Bulma made an attempt to fall back out of consciousness, but her mother shook her forcefully.  
  
"Wake up, Bulma!" she called. "You can't escape from this one, dear, wake up!"  
  
Bulma sighed and brushed some damp hair out of her eyes. "Where's Trunks?"  
  
"He's gone, Bulma honey... He's sleeping eternally up in his room, bless the poor child..." A tear fell down Mrs. Briefs' wrinkled face, and Bulma was brought back to sickening reality again. "He's dead. You must stay awake, for Vejita's sake. He won't talk to anybody, and he's so... still."  
  
"Vejita..." Bulma sat up weakly. "Oh Kami, what are we going to do?"  
  
"He's outside, dear." Mrs. Briefs helped Bulma up off the couch and offered a faint smile. "Go to him."  
  
Bulma left her mother and passed through the kitchen, where the whole gang was gathered. They stared at her as she passed, but she ignored them. She passed straight through the doorwall and began crossing the backyard out to the gazebo, where all of this had started. She found it laughingly ironic that the same place where she and Vejita had first kissed would be the place where they would meet once again, for the death of their son.   
  
Vejita was sitting with his back to the house, still and apparently staring up at the stars. Bulma wiped away some tears and stepped up onto the gazebo to sit beside him. He didn't react immediately, but when the human girl wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, the faintest hint of recognition could be seen in his black eyes.  
  
"That's where Vejitasei used to be," he told her quietly, his voice monotonous. "If we had been there, the brat would have never been able to get outside. The method of discipline there was far superior to anything that they have on this ball of shit."  
  
Bulma sniffled and lifted tear-filled eyes to the stars also. "I loved him so much..."  
  
Vejita finally came back to life. He looked down at Bulma, and she was amazed to see that his eyes were filled with tears of their own, though he didn't let them fall. "No shit. The brat was actually beginning to grow on me. Just think, he had a chance of defeating Kakkarott's pathetic excuse of a son." When Bulma looked as if she were going to sob harder, his expression softened, and he took her chin in one hand. "Don't break apart now, woman. If the kid were here, he would bitch and moan about your crying."  
  
"But he's dead, Vejita," Bulma choked. "He can't bitch and moan about anything anymore."  
  
When she started sobbing again, Vejita did not protest. He simply took her in his arms and fixed his gaze back on the stars, fixed on that spot where Vejitasei had once been.  
  
"I know," he finally said. "I know."  
  
_________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
(A/N): .... Umm... I'm not sure what to say after that, besides that its not over yet. Thank you for all the nice reviews-- I'm happy to know that you guys DO exist! ^_^ So, until next time...  
  
Rhapsody~*  
HawaiianBabay@aol.com  
AIM Hawaiian Babay  
  
_________________________________________________________________________________________ 


	11. Chapter Nine

...........................................................................................~* BROKEN HOME  
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*  
It all seemed like a dream to Bulma. In one evening, she had argued with Vejita and run off, therefore putting their 'relationship' in jeopardy, then she was cradling the body of her first and only son. She had, only a matter of hours earlier, been playing in the sand with the child, and now he was gone. Forever.   
  
Vejita had remained strangely quiet and withdrawn throughout the whole thing, showing more concern for Bulma than for himself or his son. He must have figured that nothing could be done about Trunks, and he was right-- it was Bulma that needed his attention now. He didn't console her in the classical, come-here-honey-I'll-let-you-cry-on-my-shoulder kind of way (with the exception of that first night, in the gazebo), but rather was sure to always be there, watching over her. Bulma might have been unsettled by those knowing black eyes at any other time, but was too distracted and grieved to care. Vejita was there, and that was enough for her. It was more than she had expected, even. Waking up with him beside her every morning was more soothing than any meaningless words could have been.  
  
But the morning of the funeral, Bulma woke up alone. The other side of the bed was cold and looked as if nobody had slept there at all. The shower wasn't on, and the house seemed completely still. Bulma couldn't even hear the gravity room running. A little bit concerned and more than a little afraid of Vejita leaving for good, she wrapped a blanket around her naked body (it had been a particularly poignant night for both of them) and slid out of bed. She had her hand on the doorknob when something caught her eye.   
  
The doors of the balcony were cracked open, and Bulma knew that she had locked them the night before. She stepped away from the door and crossed the room to the balcony, where Vejita was most likely sitting on the railing, watching the employees of Capsule Corps. file into the building, groggy-eyed and gripping steaming cups of black coffee.  
  
Sure enough, when Bulma stepped out of the house, she found Vejita sitting on the railing. He was dressed in only a pair of training shorts, which suggested that he might have been training during the night or had been planning to do so after breakfast. He didn't move when Bulma approached him and leaned on the balcony beside him.  
  
"Were you training?" she asked quietly, following his gaze to the employee parking lot, where cars pulled in at a steady rate. She pulled her blanket tighter around herself, sparing them a peep show as they filed in to work.  
  
"I had intended to," Vejita responded. "But I just... can't."  
  
"I can hardly blame you." Bulma sighed and her eyes filled with tears. "Its going to be a long day."  
  
Vejita heard her voice crack and fixed his eyes on her with mild concern. "You don't have to go, woman."  
  
Bulma shook her head and stifled her tears for the moment. "Of course I have to go. I WANT to go. He was our son."  
  
"Was..." Vejita looked angry for a moment, then it passed. "I will never get used to hearing that damned word. And if it comes from Kakkarott's mouth one time today, I'm going to blow up in his face."  
  
"Please don't. He's my best friend, Vejita, and he only wants to help."  
  
"Hn."  
  
Vejita chose to end the conversation there and leaped off the balcony. Bulma, acting before thinking, gasped before she realized that he was floating in front of her instead of lying in a broken heap on the ground below. This action even earned her a smirk, something she had rarely seen since Trunks' death.  
  
"Where are you going?" she asked, recovering from her initial shock.  
  
"I don't know," Vejita answered. "Somewhere. I'll be back before the funeral starts, woman, don't be stupid."  
  
Bulma watched him leave in a blast of blue light and stayed on the balcony for a minute before returning inside. Vejita was headed in the direction of the ocean, where they had found Trunks. Bulma's tears returned and spilled down her cheeks at the memory. It had been weeks, but the pain was no less. Every time she had yelled, smacked, or lashed out at her son was weighing on her mind like a load of bricks, and once again she wondered if this whole thing was entirely her fault. She had, after all, run away. She got suddenly very cold. She shivered a few times, then gave in and returned inside, alone.  
Vejita had not returned by the time Bulma wanted to start getting ready, so she set about it alone, though questions about his whereabouts were lurking in the back of her mind. For an outfit she chose one of her old dress, one of her infamous 'little black dresses', and chose a pair of strappy shoes for her feet. Haunted with memories of her past and of Trunks, she grabbed a cigarette from her nightstand and took long drags as she readied herself in attempts to calm her nerves. It didn't work.  
  
She was in the process of pinning up her long hair when the balcony doors slammed open and Vejita walked into the room, still dressed in the training shorts because of the summer heat. It was only morning, and Bulma was beginning to feel a little warm herself. On second thought, she threw all of her hair up. It would only add to her discomfort if she had a sweaty neck.  
  
"What are you wearing?" Vejita asked, stopping to look at her dress. Apparently his memory hadn't faded any either. "I thought that you had tossed all of that shit a long time ago."  
  
"I did," Bulma told him as she lined her eyes carefully. "But I kept some of them. Even at my worst I couldn't throw away a Gucci classic."  
  
Vejita simply rolled his eyes and began searching through his side of the closet. "This is a ridiculous, morbid tradition. On Vejitasei we let the dead rest in peace and refrain from making everything a ceremony. It only adds to the pain." He pulled out a pair of black pants and then started searching again.  
  
"You seem to be taking part in quite a lot of silly human ceremonies lately," Bulma commented from her position in front of the mirror. She finished her cigarette and grounded it into the wooden surface of the vanity carelessly. "Or at least, you've been promising to do so."  
  
Vejita stopped long enough to shoot her a black look. "Don't start bitching about that again. Look where it got us last time!"  
  
Bulma stepped away from the mirror, stung, and crossed her arms. Vejita seemed to realize what he had said and stepped out of the closet.   
  
"Look, woman," he began seriously. "If you're still thinking that all of this shit is your fault..."  
  
"Well it is, isn't it?" Bulma pointed out, close to tears. "You said it yourself."  
  
"I say a lot of things that shouldn't be taken literally," Vejita admitted. "Blaming yourself for this is foolish."  
  
"Then who's to blame?!" Bulma demanded hysterically. "Everything happens for a reason, and I'd very much like to know the fucking reason why Kami had to take my son away!"  
  
Vejita silently watched as she began sobbing helplessly and slid to the ground next to the bed, leaning on it for support. She was obviously not thinking; her legs were up against her chest, revealing the pink fabric of her panties, and she was smearing the eyeliner she had so carefully applied. Vejita would have let her cry herself out of it, but then she whispered something that only his sensitive Saiyan ears could pick up.  
  
"I wish that I was Chichi..."  
  
She would have only whispered such a thing if she were seroiusly desperate, and this alarmed Vejita. It scared him, how much he was beginning to care for this weak, flightly little human female and their offspring. A few years back, he wouldn't have believed it. The Saiyan Prince knelt down before his 'mate' and seized her chin, lifting her eyes up to his. Her makeup had smeared all over the place, giving her the appearance of some kind of punk rocker, and her eyes were red from crying. But, in the Saiyan's eyes, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She met his eyes unfailingly, and Vejita was once again reminded of how rare a female like this was-- it was a strange thing for a female to meet his eye without fear.  
  
"No you don't," he assured her quietly. "You hate the bitch."  
  
Bulma shed a few more tears, then nodded solemnly. "I don't hate her... Did you know that when I came back into the house that night, after Trunks died and I went out on the gazebo with you, she talked to me? She apologized to me-- would you believe that?" Bulma smiled a bit through her tears. "I could hardly believe my ears. But I DO want to be her-- she has everything that I could ever hope for. Namely, a living child. Chichi would NEVER have let things get so out of hand, NEVER. She would never do drugs, smoke a cigarette, get a piercing, run away, ANYTHING. She raises Gohan so perfectly, and she's a perfect housewife. I, however, got pregnant so young, and besides that, I took up with you-- the last person anybody would have expected or suggested me to have relations with." She began sobbing again, her tears dripping onto Vejita's hand. "I'm such a failure-- even my own mother has said so."  
  
Vejita raised an eyebrow. He couldn't help but be a little amused at Bulma's view of herself. All of those things were mostly true, but her claim of being a failure was, in his mind, just wrong. "Why the hell would you want to look like THAT? And do you think that I, the Prince of all Saiyans, would mate with a failure?"  
  
Bulma's blue eyes narrowed. "No, but why--"  
  
"That should be enough for you," Vejita interuppted. "Now get up-- if we're late for this thing then they'll be hell to pay." Thinking of Mrs. Briefs, Vejita shuddered.  
  
Bulma smiled through her tears, took Vejita's hand, and allowed him to help her to her feet.  
Vejita's efforts payed off, because when they pulled up to the cemetary, their car was the only one parked. A thick haze had fallen over the land as the morning dew evaporated, so they couldn't be sure that they were completely alone.   
  
Bulma got out of the car slowly, trying to calm herself, but failed miserably and ended up stumbling in her heels through the tombstones and to the center of the graveyard, where the funeral director had left the coffin while he went off to make final preparations. The sad little box was surrounded by brightly colored flowers carefully arranged to please the eye, and the sight of the happy little things in the middle of so much gloom made Bulma sad, for whatever reason. She stopped before the coffin and fell to her knees amongst the flowers and let her arms fall uselessly to her sides. The realization that it was her young son in that horrible box was just beginning to hit her. The tears came back again.  
  
Vejita emerged from the mist behind her silently, coming to a stop a little ways from the coffin. His eyes were locked on it as if he couldn't quite comprehend what was happening to him, the 'invincible' Prince of the Saiyans.  
  
"Oh my Kami," Bulma breathed, her voice just barely audible. "Trunks..."  
  
The horrible, wracking sobs came again, and by the time she got herself calmed down again, the sounds of cars pulling in could be heard from the direction of the parking area. The girl got to her feet, brushed herself off, and moved beside Vejita. Her makeup was smeared again.  
  
Mrs. Briefs, Goku, Chichi, and even little Gohan stepped through the haze, their faces somber. Goku and his family stayed back from Bulma and Vejita out of respect, but Mrs. Briefs did no such thing. She gathered Bulma up in a bear hug, and Bulma noticed that her cheeks were wet with tears, too. It was no wonder-- Trunks had been her grandson, after all.  
  
"I'm so sorry, baby," was all she said. Instead of hugging Vejita, she rested a hand on his shoulder and nodded. Vejita was grateful.  
  
Yamcha, Krillen, and the rest of the gang arrived, and the funeral director after them. Soon enough, the ceremony was underway, and they were saying their last good-byes. Before leaving, Goku approached Bulma and Vejita solemnly. He looked more serious that Bulma had ever seen him, and she was happy to return his friendly hug.  
  
"I would say sorry a million times if I thought it would make things better," he explained quietly. "But I know it won't. So I'll just say it once-- I'm really sorry, guys. He was a strong little guy, I'll tell you that much."  
  
Vejita and he exchanged an unreadable glance, much to Bulma's amazement, and then Goku was gone, leading his (living) family back to the cars. Bulma was surprised when Yamcha boldly approached them, his head bowed.  
  
"I know that I haven't been exactly, uh... supportive of your relationship and everything," he started nervously, avoiding their eyes. "But um... I'm really sorry. And I mean that-- even on my worst day, I would have never wished this on you. So um, I'm sorry." Before they had a chance to respond, he hurried away, his shoulders tense.  
  
Bulma watched them all go forlornly, then looked up at Vejita, who's eyes were still locked on the small, sad wooden coffin that held the body of their son.  
  
"Do you think..." she trailed off uncertainly, her wet blue eyes on the ground. "he'll be all right?"  
  
Vejita didn't respond immediately. In fact, he didn't respond at all. At least not until Bulma turned to go back to their car.   
  
"Even Saiyans believe in heaven," he admitted, meeting her eyes with his own. "Yes, woman, I think the brat will be all right." He turned back to the coffin again, and Bulma watched him for a moment.  
  
"I love you," she whispered, then turned and retreated back to the car, uncertain if he had even heard her.  
  
When she was safely out of earshot, Vejita sighed. The coffin loomed before him, a symbol of the first part of his life gone.  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
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(A/N): Well, that's it for this fic. Well, almost. Look out for the epilogue, which shouldn't take that long, considering I've been planning it for, what, weeks now? I want to thank some people for their faithful reviewing, namely BlueSaiyanChick, Felesseta, and Stef-chan. You guys are great! Now that this is mostly over with, I'll be updating 'Pitch Black' a hell of a lot faster! My apologies to those who have been patiently waiting for the next chapter, which seems like it'll NEVER be done. Don't worry though, its 3/4 done. So, until next time! And please, please, please drop a review!  
  
Rhapsody~*  
HawaiianBabay@aol.com  
AIM Hawaiian Babay  
  
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	12. Epilogue

...........................................................................................~* BROKEN HOME  
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*  
"Stupid dress," Bulma muttered to herself as she wrestled with the many frills and layers of her bridal dress. "All these fucking frills... Dammit..."  
  
She attempted to cinch up the corset-like top half of the ivory-colored dress awkwardly, reaching around her back and tripping over the long skirts of the ridiculous garment. She had fallen in love with the thing the moment she had seen the design plans (it was custom made, of course) at the bridal shop, but now she realized how stupid she had been for spending so much money on a dress that seemed as if it had plans to ruin her already unusual wedding. The last thing she needed was a ripped dress, or for her to fall on her face on her way up the aisle. She stopped her attempts, took a deep breath, then reached around for one last try--  
  
"Holy shit!" Bulma teetered dangerously on her high-heeled shoes, and would have fallen over if Chichi hadn't rushed into the room at just the right moment to steady her. "Whew-- thank you so much! You saved my dress."  
  
"Looks like I saved YOU, also." Chichi seemed to be a good mood, which was surprising to Bulma, even though she had been so compassionate at Trunks' funeral. She didn't know what she had expected, but it defintely wasn't this. "Here, let me help you."  
  
Bulma raised her eyebrows as Chichi began cinching up the top of the dress, but did not protest. She watched Chichi work in the full-length mirror she was standing in front of. She had invited Chichi to the wedding, but found it strange that she would show up at the chapel so early, as if she had intended to venture into the dressing room to assist Bulma, her former enemy. Chichi finished tying up the back of her dress and stepped back, admiring her work.  
  
"I don't understand why you chose such a binding dress, but I suppose it'll do. When I was married, it was for purposes that didn't require flashy clothing," she said lightly, looking Bulma over as she turned around. "I can't even imagine what you're wearing underneath, either. You look beautiful, except..." She bent to smooth some wrinkles in the skirt of the dress, her face twisted into an expression of concentration.  
  
"Well, my purposes are purely sexual." Bulma smiled at Chichi's expression, then grew serious again. "Thank you," she answered with a smile. "This might sound weird, but why are you being so nice to me?"  
  
Chichi stopped her ministrations and offered a rare, warm smile. Bulma decided that Chichi was actually kind of pretty, in a humble kind of way. "That's a good question. Maybe because I've been rethinking my opinion of you. No mother deserves to lose her first son, not even you, and the way you handled it... impressed me, I guess you could say." She bent down to finish her work, then chuckled. "And you've got to respect the woman who finally convinced the mighty 'Prince of all Saiyans' to tie the knot, human-style."  
  
Bulma grinned proudly. "That's me-- Bulma Briefs, Saiyan Tamer."  
  
The two women laughed together for the first time, and both were surprised at the companionship they suddenly shared. Bulma thought it strange that they had never realized their similarities before this time-- they both married Saiyans, and had gone through the painful ordeal of birthing demi-Saiyan children, and both shared a sarcastic nature. That was life, all right. Chichi finished fixing the dress and stepped back again. Bulma turned and looked herself over in the mirror.  
  
The dress she had chosen was a becoming shade of ivory, and consisted of two pieces. The top half was kind of a corset and was tight enough to give Bulma just enough cleavage to make the style her own, and was made of a satiny material that had tiny bits of embroidery throughout. The bottom half blended so well with the top that you could hardly tell the dress was two pieces. It was made of a similar material, and covered with a thin layer of thin, transparent lace that formed into a train at the back. Bulma wore a veil, which could be brushed off the face and held back by a thin tiara of beaded flowers. Bulma had woven her hair into a complicated updo with tendrils falling down around her face to soften the look, and her makeup was soft and brought a youthful glow to her face. She wore an impressive diamond choker and matching bracelets for a little extra sparkle (or 'bling-bling', as Yamcha had jokingly put it when she had shown him the jewelry).   
  
"Kami," she breathed, her eyes still on her reflection in the mirror. "I can't believe all of this."  
  
"Neither can I, if that makes you feel any better," Chichi put in honestly. "To tell you the truth, I was almost positive that Vejita would never marry you." At the look Bulma gave her through the mirror, she held up her hands in defense of herself. "You have to admit, you two have one of the strangest relationships around."  
  
"I suppose so." Bulma sighed and fingered the edges of her veil, lost in thought. "Do you think..." she trailed off uncertainly, though Chichi waited patiently. "Do you think that this will work out? I mean, Vejita isn't exactly the husband type--"  
  
Chichi interuppted her in midsentence. "Don't be stupid, Bulma. Vejita loves you, we all know it. That asshole has stayed with you through thick and thin, even when you got pregnant and we all thought that he'd be gone before you could say 'commitment'." She ran a hand through her dark hair. "And you'd better be happy with that, because you'll never hear it cross my lips ever again."  
  
Bulma laughed, her blue eyes bright. "Maybe its me you all should be worried about. I'm not sure what I think about being being married."  
  
"We can't be sexy and single forever," Chichi snapped characteristically.   
  
"No," Bulma acknowledged with a Vejita-esque smirk. "But we can certainly be sexy and taken."  
  
Chichi rolled her eyes. "Some people never change, Miss Briefs, and unfortunately, you're one of them."  
  
Bulma suddenly became serious. "No, Chichi-- you're wrong. People can change." Memories of her history with coke, razor blades, and of course, that prom night long ago, flooded her mind, and it was hard for even Chichi to miss that. "I'm living proof of that. And so is Vejita." She narrowed her eyes at her reflection, then mustered up her courage. "I'm ready."  
  
"Are you sure?" Chichi asked doubtfully, crossing her arms. "This isn't like anything you've ever gotten yourself into before. Once you say 'I do', you're stuck with that arrogant bastard forever."  
  
Bulma lifted her chin. "Yes-- I'm ready."  
Yamcha pulled his car into the parking space sloppily, nearly rear-ending Chichi's car, which was parked directly in front of the chapel, in an illegal space. He chuckled a bit at that. Their group of friends had never done well with laws and rules, and there didn't seem to be any improvement in sight.   
  
After depositing his coins into the parking meter (it would only add to this stressful day to get a parking ticket), Yamcha leaped up onto the curb and sprinted into the chapel, following the signs reading 'Dressing Rooms'. He wasn't at all sure of what he was going to do, so it was best to get to it before he thought twice about it. Would Bulma even want to talk to him?  
  
When he burst into the room, forgetting to knock, he found Bulma and Chichi standing in front of a mirror, gazing at the bride-to-be's reflection. Yamcha stopped in his tracks, speechless.  
  
Bulma looked absolutely heavenly-- flawless, even. Just like he had imagined she would look like on THEIR wedding day, a million times before. The thought of what she might be wearing underneath all of her wedding finery, specially selected with her wedding night in mind, made his-- He cut off that train of thought quickly. It wouldn't do to piss Vejita off when he would probably be so tense already. He looked her up and down one more time, then cleared his throat and prepared to speak.  
  
"I- you..."  
  
Chichi put her hands on her hips impatiently. "Well? Spit it out, already!"  
  
"Um, Chichi, maybe you should leave us alone for a minute," Bulma advised quietly, looking down at her heeled feet. "Please?"  
  
Goku's wife obliged, though she grumbled under her breath the whole way and shot Yamcha a dirty look before exiting. Yamcha breathed a sigh of relief-- dealing with Bulma was one thing, but when she had combined forces with the short-tempered Chichi, things could get genuinely ugly at an alarming rate.  
  
"Why are you here?" Bulma asked him, gathering her skirts and approaching him slowly. "You should be with the others, getting nice and drunk before you have to sit still for so long during the ceremony."  
  
"There really isn't anyone to get drunk with," Yamcha explained lamely. "Goku is with Vejita, wherever he is, and Krillen, Roshi, and them are still getting ready. Besides, I, uh... wanted to get something off my chest."  
  
"Okay." Bulma waited expectantly, her beautiful blue eyes locked on him. The hate for Vejita, the man who had taken this perfect girl away from him, came rushing back all of a sudden. He barely managed to contain it.  
  
"I, um..." Yamcha swallowed nervously, trying to put his feelings into words. He had rehearsed this in front of his mirror a thousand times since the announcement of their wedding, but he couldn't for the life of him remember even a word of what he had planned to say. Then he remembered all of the childhood adventures he had shared with Bulma so long ago, hunting for those stupid dragonballs with her dragon radar and fighting off random criminals and aliens with nothing but his karate skills, Bulma's guns, and Goku's developing power. He had fought beside, argued with, and even slept beside this girl, so why act all funny now? He wondered when things had started changing between them, and chose not to think about Bulma's struggles with drugs, parties, and Vejita any more than he had to. Yamcha exhaled a bit, then opened his mouth to speak. "I just wanted to you know, say good-bye, I guess."  
  
Bulma's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Good-bye? Yamcha, are you moving or something?"  
  
"No, no," Yamcha corrected himself. "I mean, I don't know... Good-bye to our past relationships. That sounds pretty corny, doesn't it?"  
  
"Not really," Bulma answered. She noticed Yamcha's red face and smiled. "You don't have to do this, Yamcha, there's no hard feelings on my part."  
  
"I have to say this," Yamcha insisted. "Ever since you took up with Vejita, I've been acting like an immature bastard. I mean, I suppose that we all knew it would happen eventually, especially after he moved in with you and well, I don't know if EVERYONE made a connection, but you know me. I guess I wouldn't have been so jealous if it had been anyone else. Its just that Vejita is so damned arrogant, and he's such a show-off, and he's so much..."  
  
Bulma raised an eyebrow. "Stronger?"  
  
Yamcha nodded reluctantly. "I just... I hate to do this now, on your 'special day' or whatever, but I have to know. Why?"  
  
"I've never really answered that question before, have I?" Bulma slipped off her shoes, brushed her veil aside, and walked closer to Yamcha, who looked down at her with expectant, almost dreading eyes. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure myself. I was so messed up, and you had just broken up with me, and... he was there. He was always there..." Her blue eyes were lost in thought for a moment, but then became alert again. "It wasn't always pleasant-- we were both a bit surprised when... it... happened, but in a way, you're right. It was bound to happen sometime. I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be." Yamcha took her face in one hand and looked her over one last time. Bulma did not resist him, just smiled tolerantly up at him. "He's a lucky man, you know. He was one of the most feared murderers the universe has known, and he's a cocky, evil son of a bitch, but somehow Kami chose to give to him what he decided to take away from me. I'm still trying to figure out what I did wrong."  
  
"Nothing," Bulma replied, her face gravely serious. "It's what I did. I wouldn't call this a punishment, though. I think that we split up because you're meant to be with someone else. Someone better."  
  
Yamcha opened his mouth to protest, but Bulma shook her head.   
  
"Don't sell yourself short, Yamcha," she advised, taking his hand off her face gently. "Don't tell me that when Trunks died, you wanted to be in Vejita's place. Don't tell me that when I went through all of that depression shit--" she put a hand to her diamond nose ring. "that you wanted to deal with that like Vejita did."  
  
Yamcha could not deny all of this. It had run through his mind a couple times while he had watched Bulma and Vejita at Trunks' funeral, and when Bulma had escaped to his apartment that night. He wouldn't have wanted to be there, and he wouldn't have wanted to clean up the mess she had become after their breakup as Vejita seemed to have done. He took a step away from Bulma.  
  
"You might be right," he admitted. "I comfort myself with the fact that you invited some of your hot friends to reception. It doesn't matter, though, I'm not sleeping too well these days anyhow. I'm too scared that Vejita's going to come and kill me in my sleep."  
  
Bulma laughed, then started to move back to the mirror. "He would do it while you're awake and alert, believe me, and besides, he's occupied after sundown." She smirked a bit at Yamcha's sickened reaction. "Take care of yourself, Yamcha-- and you can tell Chichi to come back in on your way out."  
  
Yamcha nodded, waved, and walked away from his ex-lover for the last time.  
Meanwhile, Vejita was lounging at Goku's house in his uncomfortable tux, sipping some of Bulma's wine straight from the bottle, trying to think of why he had allowed himself to be conned into this. Goku was in the kitchen, trying his best to throw a sandwich together, just to 'hold himself over until the wedding'. Vejita suspected that the hightlight of the evening for the simple-minded Saiyan would be the reception, where there would be plenty of free dinner and wedding cake. Some things never changed.  
  
"I wish that you were allowed to see Bulma-chan before the wedding," Goku called from the kitchen. "Because I would sure like to see her, too!" He appeared in the doorway holding a sloppily put-together sandwich in one hand and his tie in another, looking rather rumpled. His loud-mouthed wife would throw a fit if she could see him now, Vejita mused. "Chichi went to help her get ready a little while ago. I wonder if they finally resolved their differences..."  
  
Vejita thought of the good mood Bulma had been in for the last couple of days and scowled. "Most likely they did. I suppose that means that I'll have to sabotage the relationship before your mate starts spending time at Capsule Corps." He took another swig of the wine, then tossed the empty bottle aside. "Weak human liquor... isn't good for anything besides hydration."  
  
"I can't believe that you two are getting married!" Goku exclaimed, coming to sit across from Vejita, who regarded him with an expression of obvious annoyance. "It seems like just yesterday, Bulma was throwing shoes through YAMCHA'S windows, ha-ha!"  
  
Vejita rolled his eyes and ached for another bottle of wine. "Sometimes, your ignorance baffles me."  
  
"Baffles?" Goku repeated through a mouthful of food. "What does that mean?"  
  
"Never fucking mind." Vejita massaged his throbbing temples and made a hasty decision. "I've got to get away from you, Kakkarott. Be on time for the ceremony, or we'll all be subjected to your wife's bitching."  
  
Goku waved good-bye happily and watched Vejita as he hurried out of the house and to his car, mumbling curses under his breath.  
Bulma shooed Chichi away and sighed, grateful for a moment of peace. She had dreamed of this day for so long, felt such hopelessness, doubted so much, and now it was happening. She was getting married. She was in the process of adjusting the train of her dress when Vejita's reflection smirked back at her in the mirror. She sqeaked and made a ridiculous effort to hide her appearance.  
  
"Vejita! You know that its tradition that you don't see me until the ceremony!"  
  
Her husband-to-be maintained his odd expression and moved closer, openly admiring her appearance. "You know that those foolish customs mean nothing to me."  
  
Bulma gave up her useless attempts and sighed. "They mean a lot to ME. You take the fun out of everything."  
  
"If I had manners I would apologize," Vejita said, looping an arm around Bulma's waist.  
  
"Well that's comforting." Bulma narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing here? If you've come to seduce me, you're going to have to wait until tonight."  
  
"I came to make sure that Kakkarott's mate didn't make you do anything drastic in my absence."  
  
Bulma chuckled a little. "Well, she had her doubts about my choice of marital lingerie, but it was to be expected..." At Vejita's mischevious grin and wandering hands, she shook her head. "That's one tradition that you're NOT going to break. We're waiting until tonight!"  
  
Vejita didn't say anything-- he just smirked and pulled her a little bit closer. "How long until the ceremony?"  
  
Bulma's resolve melted. She voluntarily began removing herself from her restraining dress and grinned. "Long enough."  
On his way out of the chapel, Vejita ran into Yamcha, who was loitering around his car with a pouty expression on his face.  
  
"Well look, it's Earth most uneligeable bachelor," Yamcha remarked. Vejita stopped and scowled. The dreaded ex. "You look at bit tense. Having second thoughts?"  
  
"You wish, you scheming little dipshit. The only reason that you were invited was to make the guest list even at five hundred, so run off and bother someone else."  
  
Yamcha frowned. "Ouch! You know, it hurt me when I wasn't included in the ceremony."  
  
"If you wish, I can offer assistance in helping you to forget," Vejita offered, rolling a red ball of ki in his hands. "Believe me, it works."  
  
Yamcha eyed the ball and gulped. "No thanks. I guess I have to congratulate you then." He half-smiled weakly. "Bulma's pretty much the best girl in this galaxy. I'm sure that your royal family would have approved, considering that she's practically a celebrity and all." At Vejita's silence, he continued on. "And also... I'm sorry about Trunks, once again. He was something kind of special."  
  
"I don't need your pity, weakling." Vejita's expression was cold, but his black eyes showed something approaching sorrow. Instead of sticking around to argue more, Vejita continued on his way to his car, wanting to run off and regain himself before making final preparations for the ceremony.   
  
Yamcha called out after him. "You're a lucky man, Veijta, and I hope that you remember that!"  
  
Vejita kept on walking, but he couldn't agree more.  
An hour later, Bulma found herself hurrying through the halls of the church with Chichi behind her, holding up her train, making her way to the main room, where she was to be married. She moved as if in a dream. Who would have thought that this would ever come to pass? Instead of dwelling on the profound thought, she went a little faster, determined not to be late for her own wedding.  
  
Goku met her at the end of the aisle, smiling like HE was the one getting married. Bulma's nervous heart warmed over at the sight of her life-long friend and she took his arm gladly. She took a mirror offered to her, checked that her little, uh, encounter with Vejita hadn't mussed her hair (it hadn't, the man never ceased to amaze her) and took a deep breath.  
  
"Can you believe this?" Goku whispered excitedly. "I think I'm gonna pee my pants!"  
  
"Thanks, Goku," Bulma responded with a laugh. "How do I look?"  
  
Goku looked her over, then gave her the thumbs-up. "Perfect!"  
  
Bulma hugged him, then the music started, and the chapel doors opened slowly.   
  
"This is it..." she muttered under her breath.  
  
She met Vejita's eyes, plastered a smile on her face, then took her first step down the aisle, one step closer to her new life-- for better or for worse, as they said.  
  
Though it would be a life without Trunks, Bulma had a good feeling that things were finally about to get better for she and her Saiyan Prince.  
  
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(A/N): And it's over! Sorry about the delay, I had it finished but then my power went out... for FIVE DAYS. Yes, its April, and good old Michigan (tropical paradise extraordinaire) got an ice storm and six inches of snow to show for it. How nice, ne? Special thanks to sk8er girl, I know that you leave a review for every chapter faithfully, and I feel like a complete and total dumbass for forgetting about you! You've been wonderfully supportive of this entire thing, and I really appreciate that! And thanks also to those that I mentioned in the previous chapter, and to all the rest of you who have dropped reviews here and there. You guys are great! I would have never decided to write a sequel to 'Little Black Dress' if it weren't for all of the people who were good enough to boost the review count for that fic, so thanks again... I know that its hard to put up with my temper sometimes, and I apologize for that and promise y'all that I'm trying to get better about that. If you feel the need, please feel free to leave a review for one last time, k? Ja ne!  
  
Rhapsody~*  
HawaiianBabay@aol.com  
AIM Hawaiian Babay  
  
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